Born from the Shadows
by Rhoey
Summary: Vincent, through a seemingly impossible relationship with Aeris, has a child: Florence. When he realizes what Florence has inherited from him, he relapses back into his old self, sacrificing anything to save his only begotten daughter.
1. Chapter I

**Chapter I – Ghost from the Past**

Seated at the kitchen table, with a cup of tea, which had since long gone cold before him, Vincent thought back on the past five years of his life, and all the different experiences over those years. His mind skimmed through many different memories, as he sat there in the dimly lit kitchen, staring vacantly at his cellular phone in hand. He ran his right thumb casually over the buttons without pressing them, and the screen displayed a contact list, on it, the name 'Cloud Strife'.

As he recalled many different events from the past, his mind strangely seemed to stop at one memory specifically: the time when Aeris passed away. That memory, for some reason, appeared to be of interest at that moment.

It happened over five years ago, and it was a time of great sorrow for many, which forever left a deep imprint in the hearts of those who held her dear. It seemed like such a long time ago, but it still evoked so many painful emotions, feelings of guilt, and all those 'could have, should have, would haves'. Especially to one particular young man, who still found himself guilty of not having acted when it really mattered – that young man was Cloud Strife. It was bitterly familiar to Vincent, and he could understand and relate to Cloud's feelings only too well; to lose someone dear to him, and blame himself for not being able to prevent it from happening...that had always been the biggest regret in his own life, a burden he was forced to live with. So many years since it happened, and he still thought about Lucrecia, wishing in vain that he had prevented her suffering. But that time was since long gone, in the distant past, and he was now stuck in present time, still clinging to the past like there was something he could do to change it.

It had been five years since Aeris' tragic demise, and despite the grief, life moved on. All the members of AVALANCHE had settled down somewhat for a life with someone close to them. Cloud and Tifa had been living together in Midgar ever since. What they called their home was a two-story house mostly built out of wood, with a concrete foundation, and a small backyard surrounded by a simple wooden fence. On the ground floor was their restaurant, something they decided to open in memory of "Seventh Heaven"; Tifa's old bar from over five years ago. They lived on the first floor above the restaurant with their two-year-old son, a small boy they christened Claudan, and lovingly nicknamed 'Claude'. They seemed like any normal family, despite their stormy backgrounds, and they worked hard to maintain a good life together.

Vincent had also decided to settle for a life in Midgar rather than return to Nibelheim; it was too lonely for him there, and that quaint village constantly reminded him of the pains of the past, and all the regret, which had become a burden too heavy for him to carry. All the events during the course of five years had changed him profoundly, and he had no desire to carry on living the way he used to do. Midgar didn't offer much comfort, but it gave him a decent job as a gunsmith, the security of a home, and living one sector away from Cloud and Tifa was also an advantage, even though he seldom spoke to his two former comrades. He usually worked until late hours, therefore by the time he could make his way home to the small apartment he called so, it had already gotten dark. Work was all that he truly lived for and took comfort in, and he dedicated himself, and all of his time, to his job.

While he sat there at the table, he thought of one particular evening mere days ago, as he trotted down the dark streets on his way home. For what he saw that evening was something he would seldom forget. He remembered having felt so weary and cold, he wrapped his coat even tighter around himself for warmth, and quickened his pace somewhat. He gazed at the ground morosely and let his thoughts wander wherever they pleased. Different people, faces and voices whizzed by him unnoticed; he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice anything else.

Paradoxically, however, he remembered the details of that night with incredible clarity. He'd pressed on through the narrow streets, despite his weariness; it wasn't that far anymore, just a few minutes till he would arrive. He had been walking for longer than a half hour, and his feet began to ache. All he wished for was to lie down and get some decent sleep. But that was something his nightmares wouldn't grant him. Indeed, recently he found himself awakening almost each night from his slumber with a violent jerk, and then he would lie in bed, awake, and reflect over his nightmares.

Just then, his eyes narrowed as he recalled when he stopped short in his tracks. It didn't take long until he detected a familiar presence nearby. This had been that one memory which he could not seem to ignore, forget, or shrug off as though it hadn't been anything truly peculiar indeed. What a strange feeling that was. It was a presence he had not felt since a very long time.

So, he whirled his sight around. On the street not too far behind him, he spied four figures emerging from a building. The silhouettes were of three adults; a couple, a little child that seemed to be a boy, probably the couple's son (or so he assumed), and another adult. He watched on as the little boy tiptoed, and one of the taller figures kneeled down to embrace him. It was a very long embrace, and it looked like they were taking their final farewells. The boy's big blue eyes gleamed with the tears that welled up in them, and he seemed reluctant to let go. What occurred to Vincent was that the kneeling figure wore a long, dark, hooded robe, and he could not make out that person's face, or even whether that person was male or female.

Vincent took a sip of his cold tea, seated comfortably in his wooden chair by the table. He rested his chin in his brass claw, and stared into empty space as he arranged the memory of this night into a chronological order. Then came that particular moment: the instant when he for some reason couldn't tear his watchful eyes off that odd figure. The face was disguised well beneath the hood, but that figure in particular emanated an eerie, familiar presence, something he had felt before, only couldn't quite place his finger on when and where. Rooted to his spot on the narrow street, the man regarded the strange figure as it bid the sad looking boy and the couple farewell, waving its hand.

The figure looked in Vincent's direction, having sensed him watching, and met his eyes for a mere two seconds. He instantly noticed that the figure underneath the robe was a woman. Oddly, however, the instant she had seen him, she pulled the hood over her head further, thus concealing her face completely, and upon turning around, she dashed away down the street suspiciously, much like a thief in the night. That woman's odd behavior certainly puzzled him. Thus, he decided to follow her, stalking her without a sound, as he walked down the street on her trail. He followed her from street to street, building to building persistently.

Vincent pushed his now empty teacup aside, and knit his brows, puzzled at the following memory; as he came around a corner, his pursuit was suddenly over – she was gone. She simply disappeared without a trace into the shadows, and Vincent saw her no more. But rather than continue looking for her, he stopped short. He stayed there for a while, completely still in place, contemplating. He barely understood the thoughts running through his head, but even less did he comprehend what he had seen. Had it been a mere ghost? Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He quickly became aware of how ludicrous this entire situation was, almost laughable. But even so, he could have sworn that he saw...

No, it couldn't have been! She couldn't be alive, he kept telling himself. No, how could she? She was since long dead, and he was there and he _saw_ when it happened!  
Still, however, the way that woman hid her face when she noticed him puzzled him further, and that strongly familiar aura he sensed around her didn't calm his mind one bit either, especially those eyes…

His gaze returned to his cellular phone, which still displayed the name 'Cloud Strife', and his finger now lingered on the "OK" button, over glowing orange letters that spelled 'Call'. But his thumb hesitated to press the button just yet.

Something was terribly wrong with that scene he'd experienced. If there were even a slight possibility that she could have somehow, despite the odds against her survived, then why would she choose to go into hiding? Why didn't she show herself? Why would she instead choose to wander the wasteland and the dirty streets of Midgar as a lone figure, detached and aloof, hiding her identity from the rest of the world?

Or was he simply beginning to lose it, merely imagining the whole scenario?

So many questions nagged him, and all those thoughts tossed about in his head. But before they could cave in on him, he managed to push the button on his phone; its small screen displaying the words 'Now Calling…' and he lifted it up to his right ear.

Tifa had to run up and downstairs far too many times all in one morning. It wasn't a big house, but having to climb the stairs constantly became a very tedious task rather quickly. The day hadn't even started yet, but already the woman was sweating.

The restaurant downstairs would open at ten sharp, in a mere two hours, and so she was preparing for the day. Claudan needed his breakfast, and Cloud too was helping Tifa with some house chores; some phone calls had to be made, paperwork needed to be done, Claudan was hungry, and work would soon commence. Both Tifa and Cloud's hands were full.

It was only a few minutes after nine o'clock that Tifa could finally start making breakfast for the entire family (and Cloud could sit down for a moment and have his coffee). She turned the dial on the stove to full heat, picked a bowl from the cupboard and placed it on the counter. Opening up an egg cart, she started cracking eggs, one by one over the bowl, and threw the eggshells into the trashcan.

"Did Vincent tell you what he wanted to talk about?" She asked as she cracked the last egg, her back facing Cloud who was seated at the kitchen table with the fresh morning newspapers in hand.

The latter was surprised by the random and odd question, though answered between sips of his coffee, "Umm, no. He just said there's something he needed to tell me. Why?"

Tifa whipped the eggs together and poured the bowl's contents into a pan she'd placed on the hot stove.

"He hasn't been very talkative lately, has he? Even less than he used to be," the tender-hearted woman remarked, "I think he's really lonely."

She stirred the eggs in the pan as they cooked, and added some salt. Cloud rose from his chair, and placed his empty coffee cup in the sink, then leaned against it, folding his arms.

"Well, of course. He lives all by himself and hasn't even cared to change that." He added cynically. "So what?"

Tifa looked at him and frowned slightly. "But he doesn't do anything, does he? I mean aside from work. He doesn't go anywhere, he doesn't talk to anyone."

Cloud nodded in agreement, "Yeah."

"The only one he ever really talks to is Cid, but even that's a rare occurrence these days. I mean, how many times has he spoken to _us_ for instance, over these past six months? Once. This was yesterday on the phone."

Tifa fell silent for a moment and stirred the scrambled eggs one last time until she lifted the pan off the stove and turned off the heat.

"Last time we visited him, I noticed he had a half-empty bottle of wine on his desk." She noted as she glanced askance at Cloud.

Cloud glanced at her, and scratched the back of his head. "Are you implying that he's drinking? Don't be ridiculous!"

"I don't know. It's just not like him. I've never seen him as much as in the presence of alcohol, that's all."

"True. But even so, it doesn't necessarily have to be that way," he shrugged, "It could very well be a misunderstanding on your part."

Tifa sighed. Overcome by concern, she declared, "I'm just worried about him. However I look at it, he's our friend, Cloud. Something should be done; we can't just sit by idly and watch while he wastes away, and-"

But Cloud interrupted her firmly and placed his hand on her shoulder, "Tifa...I don't mean to sound cold, but I don't think there's much we can do to change him. It's his life, Tifa; it's his decision. Besides…I'm already up to my ears with my own stuff."

"Don't say that." Tifa felt very bad, and Cloud's harsh comment did not seem to help either. "Don't you remember...what Aeris used to say?"

Cloud froze solid in his spot at the mention of Aeris. He was silenced effectively by that mere name.

"She said...'Never give up hope'." Tifa revealed.

Never give up hope – never lose faith, never say 'never'. Just believe - and nothing would be impossible. Tifa truly believed in those words. She believed there was still hope for their friend, however distant or impossible it really seemed.

After a moment of silence, Cloud admitted, albeit reluctantly, "Yeah…you're right, I guess."

Tifa smiled. She was glad he understood. Cloud, however inquired, and annoyed, "How did we end up talking about Vincent, anyway?"

The man had a million things on his mind already. The last thing he needed right now was discussing Vincent and his 'problems'.

"Well, I just asked about the phone call from last night."

"I'll be meeting up with him later today and he'll tell me. But until then, can we please drop it and talk about something else?" Cloud sat himself on his chair and started to eat the scrambled eggs Tifa had made, with a piece of toast on a small plate.

The evening came swiftly that day. With the amount of customers their restaurant had, and with Cloud being away from home for several hours, Tifa was forced to multitask and run back and forth more than usual. She was slaving away to serve each customer, and the whole day, she had barely managed to have a short ten-minute coffee break; she was swamped in work. Not a single table was empty, thus her entire evening was busy, and ever so often, she wiped the beads of perspiration off her forehead, but still kept a smile on her face, despite the stress.

She was taking an order from a younger couple, just when Cloud stormed into the restaurant, though remained silent, and brushed past her. Tifa was certainly stunned and confused as her eyes followed the man, until he disappeared into the kitchen. Luckily, none of the guests seemed to notice, but Tifa knew that something was wrong.

"Alright. And would you like anything to drink?" She asked the young couple, still smiling, and tried to maintain her good spirits, but glanced occasionally back at the kitchen door. Once the couple took their order, and Tifa had jotted it down on her small writing pad, she hurried into the kitchen, and through the backdoor that led to their side of the house. The door to their backyard stood open, and she saw Cloud outside, walking back and forth restlessly on the porch with his arms folded, seemingly irritated.

When she finally caught up with him, Tifa asked, with anxiety playing on her voice, "What's the matter? What's going on?"

Cloud was fuming with rage, but Tifa detected frustration and even sadness in his voice as he exploded, "That damn bastard! I can't believe him! Damn him, Tifa!"

She regarded him, puzzled. "Who?"

It had been years since Tifa had seen Cloud this enraged. Her heart seemed to pound harder in her chest, and she was truly confused and couldn't comprehend just what (or _who_) could have possibly upset him this bad.

He scoffed, "Who do you think?"

Tifa still couldn't guess anyone. However, she did recall Cloud saying he would meet up with Vincent, who apparently had something important to discuss with him.

"Is it Vincent? What did he do? What-"

Cloud exploded at her. "He's ranting and raving! He's completely lost it!"

Tifa was taken aback by his strange and hostile behavior, but tried her best to remain calm. "Cloud, what did he do?"

But rather than answer, the man rambled on and on in a rage. "I can't believe it! You were right, Tifa: he should really get help! Just not from _me_!"

Tifa gave him an understanding look, and then decided to take a different approach. She stated softly, while stroking his shoulder, "Please, Cloud. Just calm down and tell me what happened. Okay?"

In response to her plea, he suddenly fell silent and turned away from her, still shaking with anger and frustration. His shoulders quivered. He hung his head as he stammered, "T-the bastard...he went as far as to suggest that...that…Aeris is…_alive_!"

Tifa's heart sank. She felt as though ice-cold water flushed through her entire body. She was completely stumped and speechless, and her heart leapt at the mention of _her_ in particular, and even more at that claim. She reviewed Cloud's words in her mind once more, almost as though she couldn't quite comprehend the meaning behind them. Could Vincent truly have said something so absurd and so hurtful? She understood Cloud's feelings now, and she could not help but sympathize with him.

The latter scowled. "Is this some sort of a sick joke? What the hell is wrong with him? How _dare_ he disrespect Aeris' memory? After all she's done for all of us…how dare he!"

Cloud broke down, sitting himself on the only bench on their porch. He clutched his head as he trembled from uncontrollable rage and frustration. "How dare he?"

The compassionate Tifa sat down beside him and touched his shoulder. "Cloud..."  
To be sure, she knew not what to tell him; she didn't have the faintest idea of what she could possibly say. She had never before experienced such a bizarre situation. "I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you. Maybe he just-"

"This is ludicrous!" Cloud cried, not letting Tifa finish, "What the hell is his problem? He wants to lose the few friends he has left?"

No matter how angry Cloud was, or how outrageous Vincent's supposed statement was, Tifa still couldn't bring herself to lose her temper or patience. "I wish I knew..."

Cloud looked at her and met her calm honey-colored eyes. Suddenly, he felt very guilty about his behavior. His expression softened as he choked out, "I'm sorry, Tifa. I'm so sorry…I'm like this. It's just...Aeris, she...I can't stand to have anyone disgrace her memory..."

Tifa understood completely and nodded, stroking his shoulder compassionately. "Neither do I. But somehow I don't think that Vincent would want to either."

Cloud gazed at her significantly. Tifa then squeezed his shoulder slightly when she concluded, "Come on now, Cloud. Be strong! I'm sure he will come to his senses and apologize for upsetting you."

Having said that, she rose promptly from her sitting position. "I have to get back to work now," she said, heading towards the kitchen, and glanced back at Cloud before she disappeared out of sight, "Will you be okay?"

Cloud composed himself somewhat, and managed to nod in response.

"Good. 'Cause I could use a helping hand back there, you know."

Once Tifa left him, he still lingered there another moment in the same spot, thinking bitter thoughts. He still could not believe what he heard Vincent say, and what he found all the more outrageous was, that he would call him, and have him leave work and everything else hanging, just to tell him something so absurd! Cloud couldn't guess a reason to Vincent's very puzzling behavior. But he did not care to guess one, either. Whatever his reason, Cloud didn't see a justification to those hurtful words. They only seemed to fuel his hatred all the more.

"If that bastard says anything else about...about Aeris, I swear...I'll...!"

Letting off some more steam, with that last thought, he decided to help Tifa and occupy his mind elsewhere. And so, he hurried back inside, only to be overwhelmed by the amount of guests their restaurant had that evening. His very breath froze at the sight.

"This is going to be a long night!" He mumbled to himself under his breath, and with that, he rolled up his sleeves, heading straight to engage in his everyday duties.


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II – Small Recollections**

_...I'll be going now. I'll come back when it's all over..._

_...I was frozen in time, but I feel as if my time is just beginning..._

_...Flower lady?..._

_...And let me handle Sephiroth..._

_...Cloud...I'm searching for you…_

A myriad of sounds and voices echoed in her head all at once. It was a sea of noise in there: different voices talking, laughing, crying, some even screaming - all mixed with the monotonous hum of engines, the loud rumbling of vehicles, the whirring of helicopters, and the sound of music playing in the midst of the clamor. She made no sense of this chaotic combination of sounds; all reverberated within her brain discordantly.

Two eyes, which hitherto had been shut now slowly reopened to welcome daylight once more. Strong light stung them so terribly that she closed them by impulse another moment before a second attempt; she found everything too bright and incredibly blurred for her weak eyesight.

Some kind of mumbling now emanated from outside of her own mind; it sounded like the voice of a man talking. Sadly, it was all far too muffled and her ears could not discern any coherent words. She sensed the presence of another person nearby. When her blurry sight grew somewhat sharper minutes later, she turned her head to her right, and sure enough, her senses did not fail her: only some short distance from where she found herself, she spied a figure no more than a dark silhouette in an abstract haze of different colors and lights. She strained her eyes to peer at the character. As vision slowly returned to her, she saw a person seated in a chair some distance away on the other side of the room – an old man. All she could see was a wrinkled face with a short white beard and mustache, and he wore a dark green beanie over his gray hair; he seemed to be at least sixty years of age. She did not recognize this man. Still, her eyes examined him carefully, from top to toe. Clothed in a light gray knitted sweater and black corduroy pants, he appeared old-fashioned in his style of attire. He held some kind of a noisy box with an antenna and several buttons and dials on it close to his ear. In his other hand, he clutched a large wooden tobacco pipe. Another long moment passed before it occurred to her that he was listening to a small radio. Despite the disturbances in the broadcast, she could hear the faint voice of some male news anchor, but the words spoken were indistinct. The woman heaved a deep sigh as she adjusted her position somewhat.

Leaning forward in his chair, still holding on to the radio, the elderly gentleman cast a stray glance in her direction - he froze when his eyes met a pair of green ones gazing back at him, wide-awake. He sprung out of his wooden chair, subsequently discarding the radio there, and ventured across the room to approach the young woman. His face became clear as he drew closer.

"Why, hello there!" he cried out with glee. "So, you're awake, huh? I'm so glad you pulled through…I almost thought you wouldn't make it!"

She continued to stare at this strange figure hovering over her, who in return smiled with affable warmth and unconcealed excitement. Who this person was, she could not comprehend; why he smiled and acted so strange and treated her like some kind of a phenomenon puzzled her. Her blurred vision could make no sense of her surroundings. She tried to lift a trembling hand and reach out for this face; the same hand felt incredibly heavy all of a sudden, as though carved out of stone. Much to her dismay, she discovered she had little control of her own limbs. She felt, however, that she rested upon a soft surface, with a thick and heavy quilt covering her entire body up to her shoulders, and warmed her tired limbs so wonderfully. But where was she? Unfortunately, her simple question remained unanswered, and she let her eyes linger on the elder's face; she studied his wrinkled features quite keenly.

The kind gentleman went on, grinning, "I always caution travelers to bring a map and dress warm when they're wandering like you, but you did neither. You're lucky I found you, otherwise you'd be a fine ice-sculpture by now - or dinner for rabid bandersnatches," he said and chuckled in good humor. The young woman remained unresponsive. Clearing his throat, the elderly gentleman shook his head and took a more solemn approach to the subject, "Anyway, what matters is that you're here now, safe and alive."

_Alive?_

"You laid passed out in the snow…"

The rest of his words floated past her ears when her mind trailed off. Somehow, what this old man talked about sounded nonsensical. Awakening here, in some unknown place with an individual she had no recollection of ever seeing, and then hearing his odd tale of how he'd found her in the snow felt surreal, like some strange dream; as though she had plunged into someone else's life and was now living it.

"Say, where are you from?" she heard him inquire, "What's your name?"

She drew a deep breath, and tried to form a sentence. A sudden pang of agony came as the most unpleasant surprise with the inhale; the attempt to speak racked her body. Gathering what feeble strength she possessed, she managed to squeeze out faintly, "Please…I can't…it hurts to speak."

With that said, she laid back against her pillow, feeling fragile and depleted. The melancholy thoughts in her head now began to compare her to a shipwreck tossed around by the tempestuous seas, torn apart, then cast away. She laid here, lost and bewildered, deprived of several memories of her identity and origin. All she had was this unrelenting agony, and some unknown old man for company.

The gentleman thought it best to retreat, and yielded to her simple wish, "I understand. I'll let you rest now." On his way out of the room, he dimmed the lights. Before leaving, he glanced back at her one last time. "I'm right here if you need anything."

She merely gazed at him, but said nothing. She was weary; so drained of all energy and strength. But even so, she nodded once in acknowledgment. According to her strange companion, she'd been wandering the blizzard fields all on her own, with barely any clothing. Perhaps that was the reason she found herself in this condition, she thought to herself. Her weak, hoarse voice certainly proved her poor physical condition, and indicated a possible exposure to extreme cold.

Her eyes sealed of their own accord, both of which felt sore from the strong light. Upon closing them, an image floated to her; this peculiar image resembled the features of a young man. His two noteworthy blue eyes lingered on her as fresh tears welled up in them, coursing down his cheeks. For some inexplicable reason, those blue eyes and that face seemed the only thing clear enough in her mind; so clear, that she could almost reach out and touch it. But…whose face was it, and why was it so familiar to her? Was this some kind of an illusion, a dream…or was it a memory? Once again, she failed to find answers. This fruitless meditation irked and frustrated her, almost to the point of nausea.

Eyelids heavy as lead could no longer stay open. She did not resist, and finally succumbed to the fatigue. With another slight turn to vary her posture, slumber came to her heavy body once more, and in mere seconds' time, all thought, all sound and all emotion faded, allowing precious sleep to sweep her away.

Each day, during her wakeful hours, she was fed some kind of soup and bread. The same elderly man had been present all that time and tended to her, supporting her meek body and her head on his arm while he filled a spoon with a warm soup and brought it to her mouth. Every spoonful tasted like bitter poison at first, and each bite of bread was painful to swallow; she ate with much difficulty. That horrid sensation clung to her for days on end persistently like a malady. Much to her relief, it faded slowly; she regained her appetite gradually as the days passed.

Come the seventh day, she was better; on the eighth, she could move, speak, and even sit up in bed. She felt comparatively strong and revived; desire for action stirred her, and soon enough, she grew weary of lying on her back. Thus, she tore off her heavy quilt and climbed out of bed. Her movement was still somewhat agonizing, but far less restricted. She could move her limbs about freely, though not without a tingling sensation or strange numbness plaguing her stiff joints continually. Memory also returned to her little by little; alas, she could merely recall basic things about her identity, like her name and age, and not what happened to her or how she ended up in this godforsaken place. Nor had she many possessions aside from the dirty and tattered pink cotton dress she had on her, with small round buttons along the front (missing three of them in the middle section), some hair bow of the same color, a short-sleeved red denim jacket with two front pockets and metallic buttons, and a pair of brown leather boots that had been placed right beside the bed she sat on. Two thick, gleaming steel bangles decorated her wrists; those seemed to be all she owned.

She sat up in bed and let her bare feet dangle about freely and touch the floorboards. Slowly, carefully, she reached for the boots, pulled them up to her feet and slid one foot into each boot. She then supported herself on the edge of the bed while stretching her legs to stand on them. They itched and stung as numbness faded slowly, but ignoring the gracelessness when she attempted to stay poised, she managed to lift one foot, while supporting herself on the other, and took a step. Her legs felt wobbly underneath her, and she leaned herself against the bed once again for support. She still did not have full control of her movements; she was slightly disoriented and dizzy.

The woman spent her time getting acquainted with her surroundings, all within the confines of some house in the middle of a desolate, frozen landscape (or so she had learned). The interior of the house, however, was cozy and warm. She paced around this particular room, studying every item her eyes came across.

The room had a sloping ceiling. Black and white photographs occupied the walls clad in conventional muted floral wallpaper. The photographs were simple portraits of a man in snow gear, or the same man in his younger years with a young woman looking akin to him; they appeared to be related. In the middle of the room stood a low wooden table, and an odd rectangular glass lantern in a metallic frame on top of it, with a candle afire inside. A small window in the opposite wall to the bed admitted some daylight into this quarter.

As she walked around, she came across an oblong mirror close to the door on the other side of the room, which she approached hesitantly. In it, her reflection came into view. Her own vastly alarming reflection.

Flabbergasted by her countenance and her form, she staggered back a step or two in spite of herself. The person staring back at her was an appalling wan, sickly, skeletal figure, and all of her thick, long russet locks of hair were tousled and dull. Her face wore a grisly milky white hue. Her heart thumped all the more rapidly when she raised a trembling hand to touch the mirror. Her fears were thus confirmed: yes, that was her own reflection. This realization stirred up unbearable frustration within; she quivered uncontrollably as tears rose from her eyes, and stained the wooden floorboards beneath her feet.

Fortunately, the sound of muffled footsteps floating to her ears broke that train of thought. Wiping her eyes dry, she composed herself by force, and promptly turned away from the mirror when she spotted somebody emerging through the open door to this small room. It was the same elderly man who had taken care of her that now came to check on her. The instant he entered the room, he noticed the young woman standing on her two feet. In an instant, a smile spread across his face.

"You're up? My word, that's good news, for sure!" he cried out, visibly thrilled with the discovery. "How are you feeling?"

She croaked hoarsely, "Much better…thank you." Her feeble voice almost failed her.

He waved it off, chuckling. "Don't even mention it! You're good now. Took a couple of days, but you're finally on your feet again, and that's what matters."

An awkward silence emerged. The young woman merely fidgeted in her spot, fumbling for words, for anything else to add, but much to her dismay found nothing, and instead remained silent.

"But anyway," the old man finally continued, "Welcome to my home! I'm Benji - but you may call me Ben."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ben."

"'Mister'?" He could not help but chuckle at such a nickname. "Please – just Ben will be fine!"

She nodded. "If you insist, sir."

He still retained a kind smile, and regarded her as she continued to move around somewhat uneasily.

"What is this place?" she ventured at last.

"The middle of nowhere," he stated with childish simplicity and a smirk. "_Icicle Inn_. The only trace of civilization up here. All else is just one big white desert of snow and ice as far as the eye can see!"

Complete silence. The young woman stared at him without a sound. The name rang no bell; she recalled no instance of ever having trodden here.

Benji was quick to identify the expression on her face as confusion. "Is everything all right?"

She said nothing, only nodded meekly; a feeble lie, but fortunately for her, it was left at that.

"Tell me, when you were wandering around in the blizzard like that (without a map, no less!), where were you headed?"

There they were again; questions. Questions, but no answers. Where was she headed? She didn't know. But _why_ didn't she know?

"Was Icicle Inn your destination?"

She furrowed her brow and rummaged through her memories for an answer. But with all of them so murky, she could not make out a single one.

He certainly asked many questions; where was her home? Did she have a family? Was there anybody at all that could be contacted about her whereabouts and well being?

In the end, she could merely shake her head and murmur, "I don't remember."

The gentleman frowned at her unsatisfactory response. "That doesn't sound good at all. I think you might be experiencing some kind of temporary memory loss due to the cold; it might take a little while till you regain your memory fully," he mused aloud, "It's best if you stay here for some time, I think. At least till you can remember some things more clearly."

With that, he clapped his hands together light-heartedly in an attempt to end this gloomy conversation. "So," he began, "how'd you like a bite to eat? You need it."

The old man told no lie; from the reflection in that mirror, she knew it was the truth. She managed to nod, even smile at him despite the hideous facts; strangely, she was not offended by his statement. It still took her much effort to put all of her weight on her two scrawny legs. Thus, she supported herself against the wall, and anything else she could lean against or hold onto.

"You look terribly frail," the man remarked gravely as he regarded her. "Now, I haven't the foggiest just _what_ you've been through before I found you, but you need proper nutrition if you want to regain your strength. I've prepared a nice meal, so I suggest you have some."

The woman was given a cane for support, and followed her strange companion into the very small kitchen next to her room. There, she promptly collapsed in the nearest chair and relaxed her legs. She even massaged them softly to relieve the aches somewhat. When the agony abated to some extent, she looked around herself, exploring these new surroundings. This room was not much different from the one she had slept in, except for the bare brick walls, a very old-fashioned iron stove, some oak cabinet in one corner, and a round wooden table big enough for two people (three at most) in the middle of the kitchen, with two chairs next to it. The air in this room was hotter, due to the stove. She did not mind; in fact, she had been finding herself shuddering from time to time due to the cold, even under her blankets, and this sudden increase in temperature pleased her greatly. The room itself was small and gloomy, with only one lamp hanging from the ceiling to illuminate the table underneath it, and one window to admit daylight. The dark brick walls gave the illusion of absorbing what feeble light the lamp and the window produced. A wooden tobacco pipe lay discarded on the tabletop, and a small box of matches accompanied it. Its owner busied himself setting the table, and pushed the pipe aside to make room for plates and cutlery.

"How's your memory in general?" Benji turned once again to the frail woman at the table, quite unexpectedly. He fixed his eyes on her with an almost probing gaze. "Can't you remember anything at all? Like your name, for instance?"

Surprised by this sudden inquiry, she gawked at the man in front of her, at a loss for words. Another moment went by before she mustered enough courage to speak.

"I don't have many memories," she declared in a raspy voice, gazing vacantly at the wooden table top, trying to avoid the man's eyes, "I can't even remember how I got here…"

The kind gentleman still watched her and waited for her to proceed, all the while letting their dinner heat up on top of the stove. He remained quiet, occasionally stirring the contents of the kettle.

At long last, she acknowledged with a slightly happier tone, "But I do remember my name. It appears it's the only thing I really know for sure…for the time being, at least."

The old man still did not interrupt her even once, now observing her with anticipation in his look.

"I'm Aeris," she proclaimed, finally lifting her green eyes to meet his.

"So you remember!" Benji laughed some, "I'm relieved!"

Aeris grinned; she was alleviated as well. Even a small step like this was grand advancement for her.

She turned around in her chair and looked towards the misty window, while Benji handed out lunch and poured hot tea for them both. It was very bright there, outside the house. A bitter cold emanated from the windowpane, but the heat from the stove kept the interiors of this house a warm sanctuary from the eternal, harsh winter landscape outside. Aeris breathed on the frost-flowers and cleared a small space on the window, through which she could gaze outside and see the desolate landscape petrified under the harsh winter frost. She surveyed the environment: everything was covered in a thick blanket of fresh white snow, as far as her eyes could see. All was white, and only some children played in the snow outside; people seemed to favor the warmth of their homes better. Tiny flakes fell with intervals from the heavens, which remained beclouded: a completely opaque milky white, one that the sun's warming rays could not penetrate. It seemed the Ice Queen Shiva herself resided here, keeping the land under her eternal spell.

"We're located about forty miles from the _Forgotten Capital_," Benji interrupted her reverie as he approached her by the window, "And in this direction, well, there's the _Great Glacier _and _Gaea's Cliff_," he explained, indicating the window. He, too, beheld the scenery, standing right behind her, "But I rarely see anyone heading that way. There's only frozen forests, knee-deep snow, and wild animals down there. Not the place for young women like yourself, I'd say; especially not in that outfit," he laughed.

"Are you from the village, Ben?" Aeris asked unexpectedly.

"Oh, yes; I was born here, in fact. Lived here all of my life. Never been much of a globetrotter."

Aeris said nothing, but nodded.

"What about you? Where are you from (if you can remember at all)?"

Another long moment of silence emerged, and Aeris' gaze returned to the table. Half a minute must have passed, when the name poured out of her on its own: "Midgar."

"Midgar!" he cried in shock, apparently disconcerted by that one name.

Aeris narrowed her eyes somewhat, turning to the window once more. She stared vacantly at the snow outside, while groping for any concrete, discernable memory. Much to her dismay, nothing she conjured up was satisfactory, and she was left without an answer; she had no clues as to how she got here, or even where she'd been before that. All she knew was that she had originally come here from Midgar - the largest city on the face of the Planet. The 'why' and 'how', however, remained an enigma.

His tone of voice had betrayed some emotion that he seemed careful to conceal; one which the name 'Midgar' had triggered. The instant he'd fallen silent, he remained so. In an attempt to avoid discussing the subject, however, he quickly steered away, "Well, dinner is served, so I say we dig in."

Fortunately for them both (but especially for Aeris), the topic was promptly forgotten, and not referred to again. Benji handed out their food, dividing it equally on their plates, and once that task was done, he sat himself in the chair in front of Aeris, and they ate.

Thus, the evening passed by, and much to Aeris' joy, she felt her strength returning to her, little by little.

The two of them spent the evening eating and talking by the table. Benji liked to chat; he spoke about everything: his life, his memories, but as a rule, he enjoyed telling her stories; tales about his younger years when he climbed Gaea's cliff; his adventures, and about his family and the things that befell them. Aeris listened to his stories without interruption; she assumed, being old and rather isolated as he was here in this small village, he appreciated her company; someone to finally speak with, even if most of what he had to say was small talk.

Another three days passed by. Her memories remained muddled for the most part, but she pondered upon that one face, whose two blue eyes never waned. Those eyes haunted her day and night. Whenever she fell asleep, she dreamt about a the same strange place; a place where gargantuan shells were abandoned homes from an ancient civilization, and incandescent white trees surrounded her. Her dreams would always deteriorate, only to change into nightmares instead. The same recurring themes played before her eyes: a madman holding on to a long and narrow sword; a blond young man with a pair of remarkable blue eyes pursuing the former, and a looming threat to the Planet - a meteor, soon to collide with this planet and obliterate their world entirely. Next, she heard a chaotic jumble of noise; unearthly, haunting voices she could not explain - and all of a sudden, her whole world went black. That was when her nightmare would end, and she opened her eyes.

Lying on top of her soft bed, she contemplated the meaning of these imaginings each time they happened. As soon as she'd thought of that meteor in her dream, it started a chain-reaction of emotions and evoked memories. Hundreds of different images came to her one by one. Confusion reigned over her mind and senses, when she recalled an excruciating agony, and a great warm white light that engulfed her entire spirit afterward. The sensation of sinking still clung to her mind; the feeling of lingering deep in tepid waters for a long time, like the unborn child in its mother's womb. She had no explanation to it, and knew not what it meant exactly.

After that, there were only mere fragments of memories; she remembered walking aimlessly in a desolate field of snow in the midst of a blizzard, so cold and alone, until eventually passing out. When she woke up, she found herself here, in this house. She knew not how or why she came to live; it was a mystery that confounded her; an enigma that perturbed her. There was a strange empty void within her; the void remaining after a precious and irreplaceable part of her had been ripped out of her chest - and out of her entire body. She knew not what that was either. All she knew, was that it had been torn away from her irrevocably. Far too often, she found it difficult to breathe, and the bizarre emptiness within her bosom aggravated and distressed her profoundly.

A soft gasp escaped her involuntarily when a particular memory emerged and struck her like lightning. Her odd reaction caught Benji's attention, who sat beside her in the kitchen.

"What is it?"

She turned around to face Benji, who merely gave her an odd, inquisitive look. "Tell me…" she began in a hesitant tone, "What became of…of the Meteor? Was it…destroyed?"

"Meteor?" Benji mumbled, cocking an eyebrow in puzzlement. "You don't remember that either?"

The woman avoided his eyes; she felt almost guilty for not being able to recall. "When you asked me where I came from…and I told you I'm from Midgar, you acted kind of weird. Please…tell me what happened!" she implored, completely ignoring his words.

"All right," he conceded, reaching after his tobacco pipe on the table, "I'll tell you. What do you want to know?"

Aeris blinked in confusion. "Well…everything."

"'Everything'?" the old man repeated and sighed as he pushed the pipe between his lips. He lit the contents of the pipe, and blew puffs of smoke through his mouth. He crinkled his brow in deliberation. "Let me see…where to begin?"

Benji recounted all the events in a chronological order as they had happened; from the first signs of the meteor, to the ruination of Midgar. The meteor closed in, tearing Midgar apart entirely. All of a sudden, something baffling happened; something that nobody on the face of the Planet had ever witnessed before. A green flow of light embraced the Planet and began to not only withhold the rock, but it began to pluck it apart – piece by piece, and then sent it flying out into space from whence it came.

The old man called it a 'miracle' and a 'divine intervention' convinced that it was anything but natural, coming to their aid, to save them from the apocalypse.

"A miracle…?" Aeris echoed, trying in her mind to imagine what it must have looked like.

"You don't believe in miracles?" Benji inquired, blowing smoke through his nose. "I sure as Hell do after _that_! Heck, I think it must've turned the whole world religious…yep, I definitely think so," he laughed.

Aeris pondered the old man's words. "What happened to the people of Midgar?"

"Well…Midgar is only ruin now, as far as I'm concerned. Its survivors built their homes around the ruins, and it's become a small society on its own, which keeps on expanding as we speak. They ended up calling it Neo Midgar…how very ironic."

"Why?"

"'Cause ShinRa had big dreams of building a Neo Midgar back in the day (or so I've heard); but I bet this isn't even remotely what they had in mind."

Aeris listened intently to what Benji had to say, though remained silent rather than answer, lowering her gaze to the floor in meditation. Now back on her feet and strong enough to carry on by herself, she would be able to leave the village behind and return to where she came from. Benji realized this also; the time for them both going their own separate ways drew near. Aeris especially felt the need to return, and with each day passing her by, her motivation grew more intense. If it had once been her home, it only seemed right to be there. Maybe she would find people who used to be a part of her life, be it friend or foe; she wanted to regain her lost memories, even if it meant to expose herself to potential threats; she _had _to know.

"Is something the matter?" Benji asked when he saw how the young woman appeared to be completely immersed in thought.

"Huh?"

"There seems to be a lot on your mind. Is something troubling you?" the gentleman asked kindly, observing her expression.

"Nothing's really troubling me," she admitted, "But I'm thinking I should go back…to where I came from."

Benji smirked. "Yeah, I can't say I blame you. It's better than being stuck here with some old fart, hmm?"

Aeris objected instantly to his claim, "No, that's not how it is! You've done so much for me, I…I owe you my life. If it wouldn't have been for you, I don't think I would have-"

"You don't owe me anything, my friend. I told you, all that matters is that you're back on your feet, and what you decide to do from now on is completely up to you," he declared, still retaining the same kind smile as before. "Heck, if you want, I'll even arrange transportation so you can get back home."

The former regarded him, quite astonished. "You'd really do that?"

"Naturally."

Aeris could not believe her ears. "Thank you!"

To that, the old man smiled a very happy smile. "I'm so glad that I met you...Aeris. I can tell you are a fine young woman. You deserve nothing but happiness."

Aeris smiled back at him, and he said, "May happiness be with you, always."

Indeed, only three days after that conversation had taken place,

He gave her his thick woolen robe of a dark blue color, one that would protect her from the piercing cool winds, as it provided warmth. She wondered what would befall the old man all alone here, but he merely dismissed her and insisted stubbornly that he would be fine, just like he had been for so many years.

Glancing back at the strange old man who she owed her life to, she couldn't bring herself to leave him behind. But this had been his wish, and she wanted to grant him that, as it might have been his last one. She knew she had to leave; she couldn't live the rest of her life here.

She pulled the robe over her head and decided to wear it. It felt too big on her frail body, and extremely baggy, but nevertheless it was comfortable and very warm.

Benji's eyes followed her until she was no more than a tiny speck against the white landscape.


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III – The Confession**

Three years ago, Vincent left the ruins of Midgar and set out to find Lucrecia. The woman had wanted to see him, but never disclosed why. He could only wonder why she had re-appeared and asked for him, when she'd hitherto been gone and not heard from, ever since their last encounter in an isolated cavern behind a waterfall.

What seemed like out of nowhere, he received a message one day. It came in the form of a brown envelope with his name on. Upon tearing the envelope open, he pulled out a single sheet of somewhat aged paper, and unfolded it. On it was a note written for his eyes only. It read:

_Meet me in Mideel next Wednesday before sunset._

That was the entire message, not even a name or signature on it. No need for one, either; Vincent easily recognized Lucrecia's handwriting. He couldn't begin to guess how she knew where to find him - at this point, however, he found it completely irrelevant; the briefness of the note indicated urgency.

As unusual as this situation was, and as uncomfortable as it made him feel, Vincent couldn't turn her down, and after some deliberation, he decided to meet her. It was unlike Lucrecia to seek him out in this manner when she had previously been withdrawn, and rejected everything from the outside world - Vincent included. He couldn't help but wonder what she had in mind; his senses told him everything was not entirely right, and she was up to something. What it was, remained a mystery, but he knew for a fact that this meeting would be a difficult one.

Lucrecia had spent so many years since Sephiroth's birth in a cave behind a waterfall, not yet dead, but not really living either. Trapped between two worlds, purely existing, she spent her time grieving, thinking about the past, about her son, about Vincent, regretful that everything turned out so wrong. She lived every day in a zombie-like state in hermitage, with no plan, no goal, and no end in sight. Yet, she kept on existing, having since long given up on her dreams, wishes, and forgotten who she used to be.

Now, however, she was breaking her exile to meet him in Mideel, a small village down south. Why so far away from her hiding place, and why specifically Mideel of all places, he could not fathom. Nevertheless, he appeared there on that particular Wednesday after five o'clock in the afternoon, as requested. The village was located near the ocean on a remote tropical island, surrounded by a forest made up almost entirely of palm trees. Warm breezes blew through the village, and its trees swayed slightly back and forth in the wind. The warm climate was vastly different from Midgar or Nibelheim, or any other place he had recently visited. Mideel was an incredibly small and tranquil place, isolated from the rest of the world, with barely a hundred inhabitants. His first time here had been two years earlier, when Cloud was found here in the small clinic, having survived severe Mako poisoning - and then Weapon attacked. An earthquake tore through the village, and Mako seeped out to form a green lake that would remain for years to come.

Mideel's inhabitants rebuilt their homes some distance away from the Mako pit, and erected a tall steel fence to separate the two. The old pit was still gaping green like it did two years ago. On the single gate in that fence hung a large white sign with red letters spelling the words 'DANGER' and 'Off limits'. Strangely, however, the gate was neither barred, nor locked; a mere latch kept it closed. Despite the warnings, Vincent opened the latch with ease and ventured outside the village, into the deserted Ghost Town area. Old, abandoned homes inhabited the area along with debris and the remains of furniture and other possessions abandoned by their owners.

He trod closer to the pit, studying the turquoise lake that had been formed there two years earlier. An invisible force seemed to draw him closer; it was as though it tickled his morbid curiosity. He remembered the sky turning dark that day, and the ground beneath him shaking violently. The earthquake ripped through this village, cracking the ground underneath, ravenously devouring everything that happened to get in its path, and—

He could not finish that thought, however. Having noticed something else, he glanced behind. The man spied a lonesome figure standing not far away, leaning against a palm tree. The silhouette of a slender woman, with long russet hair kept in a casual ponytail, and a soft pair of painfully familiar brown eyes met his. Hitherto hard features softened the very moment he recognized her.

"L…Lucrecia..." he whispered with slight tremor in his voice.

Too engulfed in his own recollections, he hadn't noticed her presence at all. Such a long time had passed since these two last saw each other, and now, after all this time of waiting, he couldn't muster enough strength to squeeze out a single word besides her name. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but he knew not where to begin. Instead, he silently followed her when she motioned for him to come with her, though she didn't utter a sound. They walked alongside the pit unhurriedly in complete silence. There, she could behold the green lake of Mako clearly. Lucrecia gazed into empty space, and Vincent's crimson eyes lingered on her, waiting for her to speak. Only now, he noticed how tired and worn-out she appeared.

When she finally looked at him again, she smiled, kindly. It was obvious that she was genuinely happy to see him - it came as a surprise to Vincent.

"I'm so glad you came," she acknowledged, to which the latter merely nodded. She went on in the same friendly tone, "Was it hard to get here?"

"Not really."

"I take it you've been here before, then?"

"Yes."

"That explains it. So, tell me…how have you been?"

"Fine," he muttered monotonously.

Lucrecia merely nodded, but said nothing in response to that obvious lie. Only by looking at him, she could almost _feel_ the turmoil within him. Sorrow and so much agony in his eyes, even though he masked his emotions well behind a blank expression. He could fool the world with this mask, but he could not fool _her_.

Nevertheless, she went on in an affable fashion despite her thoughts, "What do you do these days?"

He pushed a few hair strands out of his face in his usual manner. "I'm a gunsmith."

"A gunsmith, huh?" she gazed at him, only slightly surprised by the news. "Sounds like you."

As soon as those words left her lips, an awkward silence sprung up between them once more. Neither looked at one another, in an attempt to avoid eye contact. Lucrecia could tell from his voice that this casual chat annoyed him; he appeared more tense than usual. Once she fell silent, that silence stretched a whole minute, every second a painful eternity.

"What about you?" Vincent finally interrupted the stiff silence, "I see you decided to leave that crystal cavern. I'm sure you didn't request for my presence just to inquire about my well-being."

Lucrecia merely shifted her gaze towards the now crimson skies and drew a deep breath, then sighed; he was right. She thought it best to end her stalling with trivial small talk and cut to the chase rather than waste any more of their time.

"So many years have passed," she began from an unexpected place, "But I'm still the same; I'm still here in this wretched world, when there is absolutely nothing for me here...not anymore."

Greatly worried by those words, Vincent was about to open his mouth to protest. Lucrecia, however, proceeded uninterrupted, "When I lost my son...when you told me two years ago that my Sephiroth is gone...my life truly ended that day."

She closed her eyes, if only to see the image of Sephiroth's face better, just the way she remembered him. "My son...my boy...somehow I always knew that he was gone. Somehow I knew even before you told me. But I was in denial," she chuckled softly at her own naïveté. "I wanted to believe it so bad that it wasn't true! I really hoped that I could somehow see him one day. To hold him and tell him how much I love him." The woman whimpered to herself, "Oh, my poor boy...I bet he didn't even know, that he's _my_ son..."

_You gave up on him. Why didn't you fight for your child? Why did you let them take him away?_

_It's your fault._

_You call yourself a mother? Where were you all those years when your son needed you the most!_

_No, you weren't there. You were too busy hiding and feeling sorry for yourself. _

_You weren't there._

Such thoughts tormented the poor woman non-stop, and they had, for so many years. She berated herself, over and over, for having been a coward, wallowing in self-pity rather than try to save her son before darkness engulfed him completely.

Her eyes remained closed as she mulled over him. It pained Vincent deeply to be so impotent and helpless, with nothing else to do for her but to listen. He wished he could have told her an alternate truth; one which would somehow change reality to suit her better. If only he could have called her lamentation a lie; but to her great misfortune, it was not: Sephiroth never knew his real mother. In all his life, he had been raised to believe that JENOVA was his mother; a sick, twisted lie that Hojo and ShinRa had maintained till he was old enough to question his background, and took it upon himself to find out the truth. That was when he lost his mind, and unleashed chaos and destruction upon the world, murdering innocent people who happened to cross his path.

Vincent placed a timid hand on Lucrecia's shoulder, and stroked it gently as silent comfort. For several minutes, neither of them said a word to each other.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed about the disheartening hush, Lucrecia cleared her throat and changed the subject. "I wanted you to come here because…there are so many things left unsaid between us. Things I should have told you long ago...things you need to hear from me."

Vincent did not interrupt her, nor did he lift his hand off of her shoulder. Lucrecia's eyes now brimming with tears avoided his, gazing ever so attentively at the shimmering surface of the green lake before her.

Inexpressible sorrow accumulated within her bosom, and weighed her heart down tremendously as a massive rock, nearly crushing her under its unbearable weight. She declared, "_I'm_ the reason that Hojo did those horrible things to you. I know I cannot turn back time and undo what happened to you, but I wish, oh, I wish I could!"

The woman stopped short in her tracks. She turned to him and touched his face lightly with her fingertips, stroking them gently against his alabaster skin. The words kept pouring forth of their own accord, "You are a _good_ man, Vincent, and don't you let _anyone_ tell you otherwise! Even if you fail to see it, you must accept it as the _truth_, and believe in it."

By now, Vincent found himself incapable of producing a rational sentence; since all words failed him, he let Lucrecia have her say without interruption.

"I regret it so much that I let those dreadful things happen to you...because of my weakness, I couldn't stop him. And the way I treated you – you didn't deserve it! You were always so kind to me, and what did I do in return?" she sighed regretfully. "I took advantage of your kindness, toying with your emotions as if they didn't matter..."

"Lucrecia…"

"I wanted to protect my own feelings so badly...that in the process, I blamed it all on _you_! I had no right! I…I'm so sorry…for _everything_. Can you ever forgive me?"

Having said everything she'd needed to say all these years, she hung her head and fell silent. Now, she seemed to have nothing more to add, and merely remained standing there. She struggled with her own feelings of guilt. How she had been acting years ago was beyond all comprehension to her: when she made the one person who had always been there for her feel horrible about something far beyond his control. Back then, it did not occur to her. Or maybe it did, but all that mattered was to save herself from facing the facts: that _she_ had been responsible for what happened. But it was so much easier to close her eyes to the truth, and place the blame on somebody else.

But when Sephiroth, her only child, whom she had borne with unspoken agony for nine months was snatched away from her in a flash, when she had been deprived of what she held most precious, reality caught up with her; those emotions came to haunt her. When she opened her eyes to the truth, she could not believe what she had done; how could she hurt him – in all likelihood the best friend she would ever have – so heartlessly? How could she hurt _anybody _like that? She could not fathom, however she tried, what a terrible human being she used to be in the past. She did not want to be that person anymore.

As a result of her passionate confession, Vincent was left speechless; he found no words to express his bewilderment. After all these years of regret, guilt and atonement, he would never have imagined, not even in his wildest dreams, that Lucrecia would be apologizing to him and ask for _his_ forgiveness.

A long pause elapsed until he finally managed to speak again. "Of course…I forgive you."

A mere five words were enough to have Lucrecia's attention once more. Indeed, it was the answer she'd least expected, and she now regarded him incredulously, as though somehow doubting her own ears. Although she continued to stare at him, Vincent's crimson eyes retained the same resolute brilliance; he meant what he had said.

Before anything else could be added, he decided, "I'm the one to blame as well, Lucrecia; because I stood by and watched rather than act when it mattered. That has always been my sin."

Immediately, Lucrecia shook her head briskly to such a claim. "No…I know I made you feel guilty about what happened back then. But there's _nothing_ you could have done! There was no convincing Hojo or ShinRa that what they were doing was madness, and you _know_ that. I'm just so glad you didn't end up being killed."

To be sure, hearing her say what she'd told him rendered him completely dumbfounded and stone-still in his place. He found himself unable to respond in any way; he simply knew not how to.

"I don't want you to hate and blame yourself for all that happened thirty-two years ago," Lucrecia pleaded. "What I want you to do, is to make peace with yourself, and put all of this behind you, where it belongs. No matter how difficult it is, you _have_ to push forward and look towards the future. Don't throw your life away – it's far too precious for that! I want you to make the most of it...and find something worth living for," she implored him. Her voice softened, and taking his hand in hers, she concluded while she looked him directly in the eyes, "Promise me. Promise me you will do that."

Her words weighed a ton on his spirit, and he avoided her beseeching gaze, if only for one moment of relief from the emotions he now had to face. One question taunted him:

_How is life 'precious' for those who can't die?_

It mocked him. Indeed, the man found himself incapable of answering; it was a problem he simply had no solution to; when a man would not age and his life never come to an end, how could his life be deemed precious? How was he expected to appreciate and value something that would never expire? This body could never change nor perish - that had been his punishment. He had been cursed with this body; with the impossibility of ever leading a normal life like any other ordinary human being. Never grow old and eventually rest in peace, and see the people that he knew age and die, while he himself remained unaffected by time and basic laws of nature.

Lucrecia's firm grip on his hand pulled him out of his gloomy meditation, and his gaze finally returned to her. In her eyes, Vincent could see that she meant everything; her words sprung straight from the heart. She genuinely cared for this man, and wanted nothing more but for him to care for himself, too. Vincent knew that look in her eyes, and he understood.

In return, he nodded, determined. With that, he promised both of them, that he would leave the past behind him, and try to make sense of his life once more. Lucrecia smiled blissfully and squeezed his hand. For her, it was an unspeakable feeling to, after all these years, finally tell him about the emotions that tormented her for so long. She knew how her accusations long ago had scarred him, and now it was time she admitted her wrongs, forgave their past mistakes, and left it all where it belonged: behind them.

Vincent, however, couldn't help but wonder. "Lucrecia…why are you telling me all this _now_?"

She looked him straight in the eyes again, and declared in a surprisingly calm tone, "It's because...I want to be free, Vincent; free of all these emotions. All they ever do is to eat away at me everyday. And they've consumed me for all these years, and I'm tired now, it must end...for the sake of both of us."

Before anything else could happen to interrupt this moment, Lucrecia leaned closer to plant a gentle kiss on his left cheek. His eyes widened, completely taken by surprise by this unexpected intimacy. His astonishment and tension quickly melted away, however, as his arms encircled her body almost automatically, pressing her closer to him. Lucrecia made no protests and nestled against his chest obediently.

They dawdled thus in each other's arms, Vincent running his fingers through her soft long hair, enjoying this moment together with the one person he loved the most. When his shock had somewhat abated, he gathered the courage to tell her the words he had yearned to let her hear for a very, very long time.

"I love you," he whispered tremulously, "I've loved you for so long..."

"I know," Lucrecia murmured, "I'm sorry."

Though that mere sentence seemed to leave her lips so naturally, she struggled to mask the agony she bore within, fighting a futile battle against the unwanted tears that now leaked out, coursing down her cheeks.

That was all she could say. And she was. Sorry about the decades of anguish she had caused him; sorry about the way she had hurt and scarred him; sorry about how everything had turned out so wrong, and that she had let it. But most of all, she was sorry, that she never loved him the way he loved her. Had she loved him, she could have been happier - she knew, but she had chosen not to be. She'd chosen the path of misery and despair instead; the path leading to damnation and ultimately to her doom.

Neither said a word to the other. It was quiet, and so still, with the sky now a dark crimson as twilight deepened, and the evening matured into night - but these two would not notice. A swarm of cawing crows passed them by overhead, soaring towards the horizon. Little by little, they became nothing but black spots on the sky, and their noise faded away.

Minutes passed, and Lucrecia withdrew slowly from Vincent. Her feet proceeded to carry her forward, wearied of standing still. Vincent remained by her side and followed her on her stroll. He never lifted his eyes off of her, watching her closely, as though he was trying to predict her next move. But the woman merely smiled at him.

There was a glimmer in her gaze, which Vincent had not noticed earlier. It was only now that it occurred to Vincent that, for the first time in decades, she actually looked happy. The aura of sadness and despair was finally gone. Instead, she radiated tranquility and peace. There was no more turmoil, no more confusion, no more fear or sorrow. Only peace.

A faint smile floated past his lips. Lucrecia closed her eyes, and continued to walk silently beside him.

"I'm glad…so very glad," she said, "that we could see each other again."

Vincent remained silent.

"And I've made up my mind; I've finally decided: I'm going to see him, Vincent," she pronounced.

The latter didn't understand, knitting his eyebrows to her strange claim. "What?"

"I'm going to see my son! My child...my Sephiroth!"

Her very peculiar tone alarmed Vincent. Turning around to face him with a smile, the woman continued her walk casually in reverse, not watching the road ahead. As she walked on and drifted further away from him, Vincent saw her backing slowly towards the edge of the cliff, only inches separating her from the gaping Mako pit.

He waited no longer: dashing towards her, he desperately reached out his arm to grab hers. By accident, in his frantic effort to save her, he grabbed the pearl necklace around her delicate neck and burst it; its many pearls scattered all around him. Both arms reached for her ardently. Lucrecia had already thrown herself backwards, off the cliff, but he managed to seize her arm in time.

"Lucrecia! No!" he cried frantically, holding onto her hand as to dear life. "Don't do this - please!"

But the woman said nothing. Her two brown met his briefly. Something in those eyes rendered him completely breathless and petrified; he found himself unable to move. All sound, sight and sensation fragmented and ceased to exist. That smile in particular, and the emotion that her eyes radiated…

It finally dawned on him why she had wanted to meet him here in Mideel: Lucrecia wanted this.

His hands' grip on hers loosened of their own accord, until they let go completely. Incredulous crimson eyes watched her plunge towards the green lake of Mako. On her face, the most confident look and serene smile; not one hint of pain or regret. She fell for what seemed like an eternity, and when she hit the green Mako with a large splash, she was gone within mere seconds.

Gasping, Vincent seemed to be staring into the pit forever; he could not believe what just happened. He refused to trust his own eyes!

Thinking back, however, he knew that Lucrecia lost all will to live once her son was taken away from her. She'd attempted to take her own life after her son's birth, but failed. Instead, she submitted to a life in misery, living like a hermit in a crystal cavern, isolated from the world. Dying was her only escape from this prison, and her only hope to maybe, somehow, in death be able to be with her son again, where no one would separate them.

Before she passed on, she managed to say all the things she had wanted to say, but failed to, out of shame, for so many years. She finally received the closure that she had long since been yearning for.

Vincent was surprised at himself; despite the shocking turn of events, inside, he felt strangely calm. Somehow, knowing that it wasn't sadness or regret that pushed her to kill herself, but the desire to be happy, and the hope to be reunited with her son, calmed his soul. It was better this way, he told himself again and again; now she was finally free. She wasn't chained to the shattered remains of what used to be her life, and now she didn't have to suffer anymore, but to be happy somewhere in the afterlife. Whether a place like that truly existed, Vincent knew not, but certainly hoped, for Lucrecia.

The man couldn't bring himself to move, and sat staring into the pit, completely petrified in his place, mourning the loss of his beloved. He stayed that way for a long time.

The incident in Mideel left a deep imprint upon Vincent's memory; Lucrecia's last words were still fresh in his mind as though spoken mere seconds ago, even now, several months after that evening. He had promised Lucrecia that he wouldn't settle for less than he wanted and needed, and that he would make peace with himself once and for all. She pleaded with him to break free from this emotional prison he'd built himself; to stop trudging along the same old path he had for so many years. She had required new thinking from him; to pursue something different, something he had wanted before but didn't know, or was simply denying himself, thinking he couldn't have it or didn't deserve it. He agreed to start living as opposed to just existing.

It took him great effort, but soon enough, Vincent acquired employment at a gun shop in the big gray city of New Midgar, and a small apartment. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him, at least for the time being, before he could move on to bigger, better things. Whatever that entailed, he was not sure. The truth was, however, that he hadn't the foggiest what exactly it was that he wanted in life. He knew that it was to finally be 'happy', but that particular word 'happy' was vague and would not suffice for a definite _goal_.

He often wandered around the city by himself, with no particular destination, just him and his thoughts for company. Sometimes he wandered outside the city limits, as far as to the ocean. On the shores, he would loiter for hours, just watching the waves - and he contemplated upon Lucrecia's words. To see her end her life once and for all right in front of his very eyes had left him in somewhat of a trauma. It still haunted his thoughts during the day, and even at night. He dreamt about her plummeting, only to disappear forever. The scene repeated itself in his mind over and over, much like a tape being rewound and played again and again.

The remains of her broken pearl necklace he had gathered that evening in Mideel, every bead he managed to find. He'd placed them all with the remains of its broken string in a small glass vial, a rubber cork holding it all in place inside the tiny container. That was all he had left of her.

Vincent noticed that he had changed. He blamed nobody for what happened, not even himself. He knew there was nothing he could have done, it was what Lucrecia wanted, and that was how it had to be. No matter how painful, he had to accept it. The words she spoke to him never left his memory; they kept echoing within him. He still remembered her face that evening; the way she smiled, the way she looked at him, the way her lips felt against his skin, and her warmth, her scent, the softness of her hair.

Seeing her smile one last time before she vanished, he knew that she was truly happy with what she had chosen. She left this world knowing that the man she cared for so deeply would no longer suffer because of her or the past, and that she could be reunited with her long dead son somewhere in the afterlife. He hoped that she got to where she wanted to be. Knowing that she was happy left Vincent with no regrets.

He shut his eyes and let the warm sea breeze caress his face and sweep gently through his raven hair.

_I will always keep you in my thoughts, Lucrecia..._


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV – The Shelter**

Purple, deep blue and a smoldering crimson stained the partially beclouded sky as twilight deepened. This particular evening was rather chilly, when Cloud sped through the gloomy city on his trusted motorcycle, finally on his way home after an entire day of running errands for others all over the city. He could barely wait to return; all he wanted was a nice, soothing shower, dinner, and a good night's rest; to lie in bed right next to his girlfriend and forget all about today.

Sadly, he couldn't finish that thought. He felt his vehicle slow down rapidly; it ran low on fuel.

"Great! Just great!" Cloud muttered through grit teeth.

He came to a halt and stepped off the motorbike. The man frowned in anger, furious for having forgotten to refuel before advancing homeward.

His mind was in shambles; he began to lose control of his otherwise (somewhat) organized life. But when his former comrade had suggested that his dear friend - long since dead - was alive, bitterness from the past seeped through to poison his mind with feelings he thought he had left behind him.

Indeed, Cloud certainly couldn't get Vincent's words out of his mind. It had been five weeks since that strange night when he'd told him the most outrageous and insensitive lie he could possibly have conjured up; the lie that still, even after weeks, reverberated within him: -

_"There is a possibility that Aeris may be alive."_

Contempt and rage engulfed the man at the very recollection of that mere sentence. He tried to imagine what could possibly have been going through Vincent's mind to have him utter those words. How could he even pronounce such an amazing lie? Did he find this (in some dark, twisted way) humorous? Did he not know how hurtful it was for Cloud to hear his words? Or did he not understand the impact it had on both him and Tifa? So many questions piled up in the man's head. He wanted to confront Vincent, and ask him; he wished to put him in his place, maybe give him a beating he would never forget. He couldn't believe this man's nerve and indifference, nor could he live with this overwhelming anger anymore. Maybe Tifa was right, he thought; maybe Vincent was really losing it; maybe he was truly becoming delusional. Perhaps in his hermitage, he began to lose touch with reality. Cloud could only guess; whatever his reasons were, his behavior was out of place; very unlike the Vincent he was used to.

In Cloud's mind, however, Vincent wasn't the true culprit nor the source of his rage; it wasn't Vincent he resented. No, his anger stemmed from the faint hope within his heart that his claim would in some strange, miraculous way be true. He hoped so desperately; it was a fantastic wish, that _she_ could somehow have come back to life, despite the odds.

Whenever the idea crossed his mind, he scoffed at his own folly, and berated himself for believing in those words if even just for a second; Aeris was dead, he told himself, and no amount of hoping or grieving would bring her back. He would just have to live with it, no matter how excruciating reality was.

Cloud soon forced himself to push these thoughts out of his mind to focus on the matters at hand. He looked around himself. All this time, he had been taking a detour on his way home and now found himself in a very rundown part of Neo Midgar he did not quite recognize. Indeed, this particular part of town was the very outskirts, neighboring with the depressed ruins of Midgar's old sector three.

Not far from him, on his side of the street, he spotted the lights of some obscure bar. An idea then occurred to him: maybe somebody there could help him obtain some fuel. Thus, with great care, he pushed his vehicle forward. Once he approached the bar, he leaned the motorcycle against the wall and left it there on the sidewalk. Overhead, a humble wooden sign spelled the name 'The Gold Nugget - café and bar'. Upon reaching the entrance, he grabbed the cold metallic handle, pulled the door open and entered.

Diffused lights greeted him along with some smooth Jazz tune playing in the background. Surprisingly, the place was rather small. He saw the bartender mixing and handing out drinks to another customer, and only one of the tables were occupied by two guests. The scene looked familiar to him; it reminded him of his own workplace, only far less crowded.

He ventured further inside, towards the counter. His wandering eyes surveyed the surroundings in which he now found himself. They ran over the counter, examining the myriad of assorted liquor bottles on display on the shelves as well as the upside-down hanging wine glasses above him. On the wall right next to the liquor bottles hung a cork notice board attached to the wall, packed with notes and some schedule, and to the right of it was a door he assumed was off-limits for customers.

"Rough day, huh?" resounded a deep but friendly voice.

Cloud looked towards the source. He faced the bartender who grinned back affably from behind the desk; a large muscular man, at least a head taller than Cloud himself, with a thick brown goatee and equally dense short auburn hair. His appearance reminded Cloud of a bear. The man wore a slightly creased white shirt, and a long black apron over it. From his looks, Cloud reckoned he must have been in his late thirties or early forties.

"Let me guess: trouble with the Mrs.?" the man deduced.

Cloud scratched the back of his head and glanced at this stranger. "Uh…no."

He fixed his gaze on the smooth wooden surface of the counter. All that time, he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

"Complicated, I got it," the bartender acknowledged and grinned knowingly. "Can I get you something? Cup of coffee?"

Cloud examined the bottles on the shelves behind the counter, but found it difficult to choose. When a long moment dragged by, he conceded, "Give me something hard."

"Coming right up."

Cloud dug a hand into his pocket and withdrew his phone. Its rather small screen was completely blank. He pressed a button - no response. Once more, he pressed the power button and held it in longer, but the device would still not react.

"Not you too! This just isn't my lucky night," he grumbled to himself bitterly, and leaned his left side against the counter, elbow steadily planted on top. In his frustration, the man buried his face in his palm.

"Here you are," Cloud heard the employee announce when he handed his customer his drink at last.

Amber liquid filled more than half a crystal clear glass with a couple of ice cubes in it. Cloud received the glass, and without another word, took a large swig out of the strong liquor that his taste buds identified as Whiskey. Its heat gushed down his throat, and he felt his tension slowly melt away.

Cloud finally opened up to this stranger. "I ran out of gas, so I'm stranded here until I obtain some fuel."

"Darn! But, you know what? I think I know just where you can-"

"Mr. Grant!" interrupted a third voice; it sounded like that of a child.

Sure enough, Cloud turned around and saw a young boy running towards the counter, black hair fluttering about. The child's eyes were of a lovely sky-blue color which seemed to glow in contrast to his jet black hair. He was accompanied by an older gentleman, possibly in his late forties, or so Cloud reckoned. From his fashionable and elegant tailored gray suit, Cloud could tell he was not from this area; his carriage and manners certainly suggested a man of higher status or social class.

"Hey there, Fidel!" the good bartender greeted joyously. "And Dr. Reine! To what do I owe such pleasure?"

The child looked around himself, forlorn, as though searching for something. Cloud guided the glass up to his lips once more, only half-listening to their conversation.

"Fidel came here looking for his former guardian," the man in the blazer said, smiling politely.

Mr. Grant leaned over the counter somewhat to see the boy clearly. "You came all this way to see Miss Gainsborough?"

Cloud hacked on the second sip of his drink to the sound of that name. Two blue eyes instantly fixed on the bartender. The latter addressed the boy once more:

"Sorry to disappoint you, son. Is there something I can help you with?"

The boy nodded. "She dropped somethin'. Here," he shoved his hand deep into the side pocket of his pants and withdrew a soft pink object. "This is hers."

"Oh, yes, of course," Mr. Grant acknowledged.

The item appeared to be a hair bow worn by girls and young women. Although out of his reach, Cloud examined it carefully. It bore an uncanny resemblance to something he'd seen before; it was almost like—

Then, it struck him: the object in that boy's grasp truly resembled the ribbon that Aeris used to wear in her hair. Cloud found himself staring, bewildered and incredulous. On further and longer inspection, he saw that it was indeed similar to the object he had assumed it to be: the shape, the color and shade, and possibly even the fabric – they all seemed to match what he'd found in his memories.

When his eyes finally averted from the ribbon, they met the boy's solemnly. He addressed him with caution, keeping his voice low. "Hey, uh…Fidel is your name, right? Where did you get that ribbon?"

All three strangers regarded him quizzically.

"Umm, I found it," the boy revealed, "It belongs to a lady from the shelter."

"'Shelter'?" Cloud echoed.

Dr. Reine chimed in, "It's a sanctuary for orphans who lost their parents four years ago when the Meteor struck. A lot of people volunteer there; Miss Gainsborough is one of them."

"'Miss…Gainsborough'?" Cloud repeated under his breath.

No sooner did those words pass his lips, than his surroundings faded to a blur, and images from the past flashed before his eyes; voices reverberated within his mind.

_"I'll be going now. I'll come back when it's all over."_

Those were the last words he remembered her utter. Needless to say, she miscalculated; she never came back…

Cloud felt someone give his shoulder a nudge. His mind promptly returned to the present, and he found himself staring at three strangers before him.

"Kid? Are you okay?" the man behind the counter asked. "You looked like you were gonna faint there. Everything all right?"

"I should be on my way," Cloud mumbled as he rose from his stool and handed the bartender a note of two hundred Gil. "Thank you for the drink. Keep the change."

The latter merely regarded him quizzically. "I thought you ran out of gas."

"How do you know that?" Cloud demanded, glaring at the man suspiciously.

"Uh…you said it yourself, sir."

When it dawned on him, Cloud scratched his head in both confusion, somewhat ashamed and embarrassed about his paranoia. "…Right. Sorry."

"You sure you don't need any help?"

"Hey, if he's out of gas, we can help him!" Dr. Reine suggested. He then turned to Cloud. "We keep a spare can in the trunk just for incidents like this one. As of right now, you need it more than I do."

"Are you serious?"

The gentleman let out a friendly guffaw. "Why else would I offer it? Come on outside - I'll give you a hand."

He motioned for Cloud to follow him. Once the latter had paid for his drink and thanked the bartender, the two of them left the bar along with the boy. A car parked by the sidewalk right in front of the entrance was the first thing they faced outside.

"So, this shelter you mentioned…where exactly is it?" Cloud asked on their way out.

"Not too far, actually; it's on the outskirts of the city, near the Sector three ruins. It's just down this road," Dr. Reine said and pointed to their right. Once he finished that sentence, he quickly cut to the chase. "Well, then. Let's get to work."

He hurried over to his own vehicle, opened the trunk, and withdrew a large red square plastic can with some hose attached to it. Cloud accepted it, and thus began to refuel his tank. The little boy marveled over Cloud's motorcycle, as though he'd never seen anything like it; he studied it curiously from every angle, but said nothing. The kind gentleman praised his vehicle, and asked him many questions, attempting to keep a conversation going.

"You're lucky we bumped into each other," he admitted, "otherwise you may have been stuck here for a while."

"I'd imagine," Cloud mumbled casually.

"Yes, this place…it's really desolate. The most run-down area of the entire city, I'd say. Nobody would like to be stranded here."

An awkward silence ensued. Cloud still waited for the contents of the plastic container to empty completely into his motorbike. The amount wasn't large, but enough to get him home, or at least out of this gloomy place.

"Say, do you know Miss Gainsborough…sir?" Dr. Reine asked out of the blue.

Cloud avoided the man's eyes, trying to appear busy; his query only induced more discomfort within him. "Why do you ask?"

The kind gentleman smiled. "You looked pretty shocked back there, like lightning struck you; it was written all over your face."

"No, I…just thought the name sounded familiar, I guess," he lied.

"That's too bad," the other remarked. "One has got to admit, it's a very noble thing what that woman is doing; selflessly dedicating her life to helping others heal. If it wouldn't have been for her, Fidel here wouldn't have made it."

Cloud nodded, but he would still not face the man.

"But it's sad in a way, too."

"What's sad?"

"Well…she's a decent young woman (attractive too, might I add); she could be having a career, maybe even a family of her own, but instead she wastes away in a place like _that_," the man said. "She doesn't seem to belong there, somehow. She also has the most remarkable pair of green eyes I've ever seen..."

"She's at the shelter, let's go now!" Fidel demanded, tugging at his stepfather's sleeve. He then ran off and took his seat in the car, waiting eagerly to take off.

"Easy there, Fidel!" the gentleman called. "We're done here in just a minute, and then we're on our way, I promise."

Cloud handed back the empty plastic can. "Thanks for all your help; I appreciate your kindness."

Dr. Reine smiled and extended his hand, which Cloud shook. "It was my pleasure! Well then. Have a good night, Mister…?"

"Strife."

"Have a good night, Mr. Strife! And good luck to you!"

With a final wave, he climbed inside his car, started up the engine, and slowly drove away from the site. Cloud heaved a sigh of relief and watched as the car rolled down the rough, dusty terrain, and followed the road until it was no more than a dark spot in the distance.

He considered himself lucky for this encounter; the purr of his motorcycle only reinforced his gratitude after he'd turned the key and fired up the engine. Mounting his vehicle, he prepared to leave this place behind him.

Something else gnawed on his heart, however. The words exchanged between that friendly doctor and his apparently adopted son; the name 'Gainsborough' popping up from nowhere, and that ribbon.

The man clenched his fists and compressed his jaw. He turned the handlebar towards him, rolling rapidly down the road, after the other two in the same direction.

He had to find this person who so resembled Aeris, and apparently an impostor who pretended to be her! He had to know who this person was!

He entered the desolate, polluted area of the Sector three ruins of Midgar. His vehicle whipped up clouds of dust and sand, leaving an imprint of its tires behind in the soft soil.

Cloud took notice of the ominous dark clouds overhead, and knew what they signified. Indeed, the lovely red tints of dusk were now shrouded by a thick cover of gray clouds, heavy with rain, waiting to relieve their weight upon this land.

A large gray concrete building no higher than two stories rose before him. Cloud assumed it must have been an old, abandoned storage facility or factory building. He stopped some distance outside, shutting off the engine, and looked around to see any sign of something familiar. Sure enough, he spotted the same car Dr. Reine had driven parked outside.

Long minutes stretched, but nothing happened. Still, he waited. He grew restless and impatient, but would not move from his spot. Finally, when his patience ran out, he heaved a sigh and clenched his fists.

"What am I doing here?" he muttered almost inaudibly to himself, "It's just a waste of my time!"

Adjusting and pulling on his gloves, Cloud prepared to take off and drive home. Blue eyes shifted from his hands to the building once more, where they froze in shock at the sight before him. Out emerged a figure, with the same ribbon that boy had been holding on to, now in her hair. Fidel came walking beside her, laughing and holding her hand, leading her outside, and Dr. Reine accompanied them.

The whole world stopped for Cloud. Thunderstruck, he could merely gawk at the woman, fumbling in his mind for reason and logic.

Fidel hugged her tight. When he let go of her, he joined his stepfather, climbing into the truck and waved one last time. The woman waved back and smiled. Mere minutes later, they were gone. Cloud never saw them again.

It was then, that the lady looked in Cloud's direction, and spied him over there on the other side of the street. Strange to say, she froze in her spot when she saw him. It appeared as though she recognized him. Cloud wasted no time; he left his vehicle behind and approached her.

It was that face! The face that haunted her dreams, the one that never faded from her memory. That pair of intense blue eyes, and his spikes of blond hair seemed so familiar to her. The name was on her lips, she could almost pronounce it…

Cloud's heart sank, and he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened in absolute stupefaction as he was now standing before her, mere feet of air separating them. The face belonged to a young woman: a face that he identified immediately; with it's long brown hair, and those green eyes he had not seen in ages!

He gasped for air; tears now streaming from both of his sky-blue eyes. He reached out a trembling hand, only to stop midway in disbelief, clenching his fist. His entire body trembled violently - he refused to believe his eyes.

"I-it can't be you! It CAN'T be! It's _impossible_!" he cried in shock.

It was too much for the man's heart to handle. He clutched his head with both hands, as his shoulders quivered. He could barely draw breath.

"You're not real...it's just an illusion, a-a dream! This isn't happening...I'm only dreaming!" he continued to mutter to himself, still not ready to believe the spectacle. By the end, Cloud slapped his own cheeks desperately, hoping to wake himself from this deceitful dream. The startled woman in front of him could not move from her spot.

Everything around Cloud seemed to disintegrate into oblivion. In his mind, he wasn't in Midgar anymore. He found himself in the Forgotten Capital, running down a long, winded path of clear crystal, only to find Aeris kneeling at some altar, eyes closed, and hands clasped together in silent prayer. He ran toward her. He wanted to warn her of the imminent danger that threatened her. Next thing he knew, Sephiroth plummeted from the sky, and plunged his blade into her back - before his very eyes.

He held her body in his arms and cried silent tears, but her eyes remained sealed. He knew that unless he got her medical attention fast, she would die. Sadly, he had already acknowledged that until he could get her out of there, it would already be too late. Even though he could still feel a hint of life in her body, a faint pulse still throbbing, he knew he could not save her. He had never felt as hopeless as he did at that moment. He was losing someone dear to him, and there was not one damned thing he could do about it except watch while the feeble life she still possessed poured out of her gradually. He hated himself, and he was…afraid. So afraid of Sephiroth and what he was capable of, but most of all, he was afraid of _himself_.

Back to the present, Cloud gazed at her, the woman still standing tall in front of him. He stammered, "I-it r-really _is_ you..."

She crouched down beside him, concerned, and placed a hand on his shoulder to confirm that, yes, it really _was_ her; yes, she was there for real, it wasn't just a dream or an illusion.

Cloud rambled on senselessly, "I...so many years passed, and...I hated myself...for what happened to you...ih-_how_ d-did you...?" Nothing he said came out right. There was so much he wanted to tell her, all in one breath. He noticed how the woman stared at him anxiously, and did not seem to understand what he raved on about.

When Cloud finally managed to calm down and gathered his courage, he looked her straight in the eyes, "Aeris...you're alive..." he forced out between gasps, repeating to himself as though he doubted his own words, "You're...alive..."

His heart pounded within his chest; hammering so hard, its sound drained out everything else around him, accompanied by a shrill ringing in his ears.

Images from the past flashed before his eyes. He saw a dear friend to him, impaled right in front of him, where he could see it all happening so clearly. He watched on in horror, completely motionless. A hideous smirk of pure insanity spread across the madman's lips as he planted one foot on Aeris' back and kicked her dying body off his sword, as though she was nothing but mere filth to soil his precious Masamune. He appeared overjoyed, like he'd just defeated the only obstacle hindering him from attaining his dream; Sephiroth showed no mercy, and no compassion; human life had no value in his eyes.

Aeris' eyes sealed lightly and her body sagged. Cloud rushed over to catch her as she fell straight into his arms, lifeless, like a mere rag-doll. He cried bitter tears while he hugged her, trembling violently; this was not happening, it _could not _be real! He stared at her face, hopelessly waiting for her eyes to open again. But Aeris wouldn't move, and she didn't speak. She could no longer hear him.

_What have I done?_

_She's gone..._

_She will never be able to laugh, speak, cry...or get angry..._

Years had passed since that horrific day. He spent all of those years trying to forgive himself for having failed her. For not being able to protect her when she needed him the most. Five years went by, and he spent each of those five years picking up the broken pieces that were Cloud. With great agony and effort, he tried to re-build his sense of self again, and managed to lead a normal life, despite his ordeal and the millions of obstacles along the way. Somehow, he overcame them, and he grew stronger and more confident than ever before.

Even so, he still would not refrain from visiting the old ruins of the church, reminiscing about the days when a special part of his life still walked among them. He would bring a jug of water to pour on the flowers to make sure they still bloomed as vividly as before. Then, he would sit himself on one of the wooden church benches, and watch her flowers.

It was there, at that place, where he remembered her best; there, he'd woken up, to the sound of a soft voice calling him: his eyes opened, and there, in the strong light, he saw a face; a very beautiful face, at that. Where was he? What happened? The image of a smiling Aeris watering her flowers still lingered like a ghost over the flowerbed.

He'd felt something for her; an emotion so foreign to him; he could not remember whether he'd felt that emotion before in his life. But before he could know for sure what that emotion was, she was gone forever: fate came to steal her away from him. Life was cruel, demanding him to accept it and move on despite the terrible pain, and the void it left within him.

With the same sharp, high-pitched ringing in his ears, his mind struggled to return to the present, and slowly resurfaced again from the murky waters of his memories.

Cloud gazed at Aeris searchingly, desperately demanding an answer. "H...how? _How_ did you survive!"

He had to know! But much to his despair, Aeris' eyes revealed nothing to him, and she did not reply, only beheld him, now somewhat sadly.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about."

"What…you mean you don't remember!" He exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," she replied, almost guiltily and shook her head, "I really can't recall anything…"

Her presence evoked a myriad of memories, sensations and emotions – things he only felt when _she_ was around. He wanted to tell her of the many years of self-contempt and grief, because of what he let happen to her: to see her draw her last breath and die in his arms; to be taken away from him, while all he could do was watch...still to this day, he could not conjure up her face in his mind without a stabbing pang of pain and guilt attached to her memory.

And now, after all of that, she stood before him somehow, with no rhyme or reason. Her two green eyes riveted on him alone, filled with concern, and other emotions he could not quite identify. He wanted to hold her, just hold her and cry: pour it all out for her and beg for her forgiveness. But somehow he could not; it all got caught up in his throat, and he found himself unable to tell her any of those things. Where would he start? How would he finish? He feared that all of this was a mere dream, and she was just another memory that would evaporate were he to awaken.

Much to his great astonishment, before he could say anything at all, Aeris leaned closer, throwing her arms around him and engaged him in a warm embrace. Her presence and his emotions combined overwhelmed him, and it grew too heavy for him to bear anymore. Cloud, too, wrapped his arms around Aeris, and buried his face against her neck. All he'd kept bottled up for years suddenly burst forth in the shape of bitter tears. The man couldn't stop them from flowing, nor could he choke back the heart-wrenching sobs that escaped him involuntarily. He wept and wept, until he thought he would never stop.

"It's all right," Aeris comforted, "Everything is all right. Please, don't cry."

Her voice sounded so wonderful to his ears! The man hugged her even tighter. No, it wasn't an illusion; she was real, and she was here, where he could feel her heartbeat against his. He felt her warmth, and her scent, just the way he remembered it; it wasn't a dream, after all. He tried to say something, but not a single word escaped him. For Aeris, this was the first time in many years that she felt truly happy. She could barely comprehend it; it was all so surreal, like none of this was truly happening: as though this scene belonged to another person, another lifetime, another world. The two friends, but especially Cloud, never thought they would see each other again.

With one final squeeze of reassurance, Aeris released a reluctant Cloud, who still clung to her as to dear life. He feared that if he let go of her, she might vanish again.

"It's really…_you_..." he stammered, searching for the right words, his eyes still brimming with tears. He wiped them off with his trembling palms.

Cloud composed himself by force in an attempt to regain control of his senses. When the violent storm of emotions and shock abated somewhat after another hour, questions were asked. Questions piled upon even more questions; how had she survived her fate? Why had she stayed away for so long? Where would she go now, what would she do with her life? Did she have anywhere to go at all? Bombarded with all these questions, Aeris took a step back, overwhelmed by this heated interrogation, and she could not produce any answers.

By that time, it had already begun to rain. The gentle downpour left dark blots in the dust and on their clothes. The pitter-patter and the sound of children in the background were the only sounds to penetrate the wall of awkward silence.

Cloud studied her from top to bottom. He wondered to himself, whether she'd looked in a mirror at all over the years. He saw how frail she appeared in her baggy dark coat. She supported her weak body on a long wooden staff, slightly taller than her. Her meager appearance certainly struck a sensitive chord within him; from the way she walked, he could tell that everything was not right with her; she had an ivory pallor, and appeared sickly, worn-out; there was something ascetic in her countenance.

In his mind, he began to debate what to do with her. The only option he found was to take her home. He would not let her continue to roam the streets all on her own, or stay in this dirty old factory building, either. No, she needed a real home, and someone who would look after her. Deep down, _he_ wanted to be the one who took care of her, and make sure that nothing would harm her, if he so had to protect her with his life. After all, that was what he'd failed to do five years earlier…

And then, yet another question gnawed at him: how would Tifa react to this? He couldn't begin to imagine what her reaction would be, were she to see her long since deceased friend now alive all of a sudden. Nevertheless, Cloud was determined: this was what he had to do.

"I've decided…you're coming home with me!"

His impulsive decision rendered Aeris speechless; from his resolute voice, she knew that the man had his mind made up, and he wouldn't be persuaded otherwise.

"No, I can't go!" she protested.

"What do you mean 'you can't'?"

"I should stay here, I can't just leave like—"

"No. I won't let you stay in this place! What if something happens to you again? No way!"

Aeris argued her case further, but was much to her dismay met with twice the resistance; Cloud refused to lose this argument, and stood his ground firmly. The former still refused, and once she had had enough, she turned her back to him, ready to abandon the discussion; she would not tolerate this insolence.

In his last desperate effort to convince her, Cloud changed his strategy.

"Don't you want to get your memories back?" he challenged.

The woman stopped short in her tracks. Cloud realized he'd struck a sensitive string. Aeris turned to face him once again, regarding him, silently demanding an explanation.

"I can help you," he clarified, "and I know others who can as well. But I can't help you if you won't cooperate."

A very long moment of silence followed. Cloud gazed at her beseechingly, but she merely returned his gaze with more sadness. She thought of the orphans. If she abandoned them, she would deprive them of a guardian, of someone they looked up to and revered. She'd wanted to be there for them, and in a way, this shelter had become a home to her, as well. And now? She would have to leave all that behind, and join this man who promised her her memories back. Even though she pondered long and hard, while the light rain splashed against her face, she reached the same conclusion no matter how she looked at it.

"I'll go with you," she consented at last, though rather reluctantly. "Give me a few minutes to gather my belongings."

Cloud nodded, and watched her return indoor. He was convinced that this was the best option for her. Who else would help her recover and be a whole person once more?

Aeris returned half an hour later, with nothing more than an additional white bag made of fabric, in which she kept some of her possessions. Cloud lingered another moment, lost in thought. He then excused himself, and scurried off to collect his motorcycle from where he'd discarded it carelessly.

Rather than prepare to take off, Cloud turned his head away from her slightly, as though he tried to avoid her eyes. The latter watched him hum and haw for a while, apparently trying to tell her something else, with much difficulty.

"There are some things you need to know first," he began, though unsure of how to continue. He tensed up, felt his heart once again beginning to pound harder in his chest, and his voice trembled somewhat as well. "Since I...since everyone thought you're…dead, well..."

Cloud looked up at her hesitantly, as though he waited for her permission to proceed. Aeris felt a strange foreboding feeling prick her heart. Nevertheless, she managed to smile despite her discomfort, and encouraged him to go on.

Silence stretched another moment, until Cloud began to recount the past five years of his life.

He spoke to her of both the past and the present, and his trials and tribulations over the years; about the horrible nightmares he had after having seen her stabbed, and the never-ending guilt that tormented him non-stop afterward. Aeris listened to his story in complete silence, not once trying to interrupt him.

Cloud hung his head. "I've thought about you a lot," he confessed hoarsely, once again fighting a battle against his tears, his shoulders quivering while he did so, "A-and...I hated myself for..."

Aeris merely shook her head, and sighed softly in response to those words. "That's silly! There's really no reason to 'hate' yourself, is there? You did your best – and that's what counts. So, stop blaming yourself."

His gaze met her two warm green eyes. They radiated gentle kindness upon him. She added, almost inaudibly, "Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?"

The young man felt greatly comforted by those words, but found nothing sensible to say in return. When all words failed him, he sighed in defeat. Aeris reached out a hand to caress his cheek affectionately, still retaining that kind smile. For the first time, a joyful smile spread across Cloud's lips as well when he beheld this woman, overwhelmed by his own emotions.

Aeris withdrew her hand from his face, and focused instead on the matters at hand. Cloud then helped her climb onto it and sit herself on its seat, though quite awkwardly; it was the first time she ever sat on a motorcycle. Cloud took his vehicle by the handlebars and with a turn of his key, started the engine.

"Hold on tight!" he ordered. His friend obeyed, and grabbed hold of his shirt with both hands - and thus, they took off.

By the time the two finally arrived at a house with a small front porch, it had already gotten dark. The entire neighborhood and the streets surrounding it had long since fallen silent, and nothing stirred; the streets were all pitch black, save a single street light flickering some distance away down the road. All was still, except for the faint sound of some dog barking. The house itself towered over them as nothing more than a black silhouette, and only one window were lit up. Cloud knew, of course, that Tifa was still awake, most likely waiting for him. Indeed, he'd been away from home for hours, when he'd promised her that his trip wouldn't take him longer than an hour at most.

"This is it," he said, his tone very low, and he looked directly at Aeris. His heartbeat grew increasingly quicker; he knew what awaited.

Aeris regarded him seriously another minute. Using her staff as support, she climbed off the motorcycle carefully, grateful to be on steady ground once more.

Cloud glanced back at her one last time, before he pushed the key in the lock, turned it, then pulled the front door open. The instant he set foot inside the house, a very concerned Tifa greeted him, and looked none too amused. She carried a round black plastic tray packed with a set of clean wine glasses, all glistening like crystals. It almost went flying out of her hands as she nearly jumped on her boyfriend in her agitation.

"Cloud! I've been worried sick for you! It's almost one A.M.!" she chided, "Where have you—"

Her sentence ended in a loud gasp. In her great shock, she lost balance. The tray in hand tipped; all the wine glasses she saved mere seconds ago now struck the floor in a loud crash, shattering into hundreds of shards. The woman found herself rendered completely breathless; she stood face to face with a ghost from the past, staring straight back at her! Her breaths grew shorter and quicker, and her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out all sound.

"Tifa..." Cloud reached out his arm, in a futile effort to calm her, but much to his dismay, found nothing sensible to say. She did not seem to notice him, either.

"H-how...what is she...w-what's going on!" the woman stammered, looking between Cloud and Aeris, too perplexed to produce a coherent sentence. In her confused mind, she was searching desperately for an explanation to what she saw: she began to think that she was merely hallucinating, about to lose her mind. Telling from Cloud's behavior, however, she could see that the image before her was not merely some mirage; it was not just her mind playing tricks on her.

Tifa finally managed to compose herself somewhat, and approached Aeris. Carefully, she reached out a trembling hand, and touched Aeris' face lightly with her fingertips.

"How is this...oh, my God...Aeris? Is that..._really you_?"

She jerked back her hand instinctively; she was real, indeed! Struggling in vain to choke back her tears, Tifa was unable to contain herself anymore; she leaned in to embrace her friend passionately.

"A miracle! _This_ is a MIRACLE!" she exclaimed.

Aeris patted her friend's back affectionately; how wonderful it felt to see her once more! Tifa caressed her friend's face, and wiped her own wet cheeks with her free hand.

"I can't believe this is real! Oh...Aeris!"

She clasped Aeris' face between her two hands, and smiled while fresh tears welled up in her two brown eyes. Aeris said nothing; instead, she smiled back at her amiably.

When Tifa finally let go of her and took a step back, and studied her top to bottom. It suddenly occurred to her how frail and sickly her friend appeared. Exhaustion had left its marks on her face and her almost milky pale skin, and it showed clearly in her eyes that her energy had been depleted. All of her garments were sullied and torn.

"Ah, but look at you...you look terrible! We need to do something!" she cried, beside herself with worry. Upon turning to Cloud, she stomped her foot impatiently, "Cloud! What are you still standing around for! Go make the guestroom ready so she can get some sleep!"

"Of course," Cloud acknowledged with a nod, and turned his back to the two of them, disappearing out of sight as he ascended a flight of stairs to the first floor. Once he was gone, Tifa turned to Aeris once again.

"What about those?" Aeris asked, pointing to the shards of glass lying around in a miserable heap on the floor.

"Right, I forgot about that," Tifa said briefly. She quickly dismissed the matter, "I'll take care of it later. First thing's first: let's get you all cleaned up and find you some nice dry clothes!"


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter V**_** - Reunion**_

Many things had changed over the past five years since that one unforgettable incident in the Forgotten Capital, and life went on.

No more than an old ghost town, Midgar had been left in a wretched state after the destruction caused by the meteor; the city had been reduced to scrap metal, rubble and miles of ruins; collapsed buildings, abandoned apartment complexes and empty roads. Rather than spend valuable resources and precious time on rebuilding the city, the inhabitants who once populated it transferred to an area outside of the old metropolis. Here, a new city rose and expanded slowly. What started as casual nicknaming ended as the official name for this new community: _Neo Midgar_. The city itself was about three fourths the size of its predecessor, and far less polluted, though rather primitive in comparison (which Cloud pointed out to be incredibly ironic). Many streets lacked proper asphalting; some were mere concrete roads, others were bare, dusty soil roads or half-finished, while some streets had been paved with cobblestone as a cheaper alternative. Something that resembled a monorail road was under construction, but would not be finished within the next five years. Cranes and scaffolds were a common sight all over the city.

Aware of Aeris' obvious amnesia, both Tifa and Cloud gave all they could to tell her everything about her that the two of them knew, and tended to their pitiful friend. They shared with her what they knew about her biological parents, as well as her stepmother Elmyra, how she came to Midgar as a seven-year-old; about Shinra, and the reason they had wanted to capture her, for being the last of the Cetra.

They talked about AVALANCHE, how Aeris met Cloud and joined his group five years ago. Tifa named its members and gave her a curt description of each of them, hopeful that somewhere, somehow, she would remember. Sadly, however, only vague and broken memories emerged from the depths of her mind, beclouded and faded.

Their discussion took on a more serious tone when they spoke of their journey across the world, their pursuit of Sephiroth, and of Aeris leaving the group behind when she traversed to the Forgotten Capital by herself. There, she met a tragic end - or so they had believed up until the present. Although she somehow evaded the clutches of death, a mere look into her eyes told Tifa all she needed to know: something inexplicable within her had irrevocably and permanently snapped. She seemed different than the Aeris Tifa remembered.

Aeris recounted the events of the past four years of her life to her friends. She told them about her awakening in Icicle Inn in an old man's house, with no memory. There she'd stayed until she remembered enough to return to the Midgar area, which used to be her home. To her horror, she found her former hometown in ruins and uninhabited, and her stepmother had also left the house she used to call home. With nowhere to go, she ended up at a shelter for destitute children on the outskirts of Neo Midgar; she'd lived and volunteered there for about four years, until she was reunited with Cloud when he found her.

Cloud, however, would not be satisfied with her story. He adjusted his posture in his cozy armchair and leaned closer to her, then confronted her delicately; his two blue eyes gleamed meaningfully, his gaze pierced her own eyes.

"Aeris…how far back can you remember?"

The latter was taken aback by such a straight-forward question; by the look on her friend's face, she knew he expected an answer.

"Well…" she breathed, clasping her hands together loosely on her lap, avoiding Cloud's eyes, "I remember walking aimlessly in a field of snow…and then I got caught in a blizzard. I must have passed out from the cold, after which I woke up in that house in the village like I said…"

Cloud nodded briskly. "I know, but I mean _before_ that."

Aeris stared at Cloud in awe for a moment. She averted her gaze and compressed her jaw, mangling her brains for even the faintest trace of a memory. In the end, she gazed back at him, and sighed regretfully. "Nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

Aeris shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Indeed, everything before that night when she awoke at Icicle Inn was no more than a hazy blur, and she could not even recollect how she ended up there in the first place. She assumed that she most certainly had been wandering from the Forgotten Capital without direction on foot, and once the bitter cold got the best of her, she finally collapsed in the snow fields.

"I only remember bits and pieces of my life," she confessed, turning her attention to Tifa and met her two brown eyes. "I knew you both somehow, I just don't know when or how we met. Your faces seemed so familiar to me, and it helped me remember your names. I know where I used to live, where I grew up, basic things about who I am, stuff like that. But everything else is, well…I just…"

The rest was inaccessible. Aeris' face crumpled up in vexation. She buried her face in her palms, frustrated with the inability to recall. "Ugh! Why? Why can't I remember!"

The tender-hearted Tifa was by her side in a second, and rubbed her back. "Aeris, it's okay," she comforted softly. "Don't overdo it. You can't expect everything to come back to you just like that. Give it time."

"But it's already been four years!" Aeris cried, perturbed, and looked up at Tifa once more. "I feel like I've lost part of my identity…you know?"

"I know. But we're here to help you now, if you let us. So, don't worry, okay?" Tifa reassured with a smile. Aeris' eyes met hers, and she grinned back at her friend in response.

"Oh, by the way, while we're on the subject," Tifa added, "I should mention that I finally acquired Elmyra's new number and address. It wasn't easy, since we've been out of touch with her for years. I wanted to ask you whether you'd like to see her?"

"My stepmother?"

"That's right."

"I…don't really think that's-I mean, I don't know if…"

Aeris fumbled for the right thing to say, though somehow nothing came out right. Disinclination on her face and that tentative tone voiced her feelings better than any words could, and luckily, Tifa was quick to read between the lines. She had already anticipated her friend's answer, well aware of Aeris' uncertainty, and she understood. She wouldn't push her friend; instead, she reached her a small piece of paper with a series of numbers written on it along with the name 'Elmyra Gainsborough' in her own elegant handwriting. Aeris stared at the note for a moment and then regarded her friend quizzically.

"It's all right, I get it," declared Tifa with a meaningful smile. "Whenever you feel you want to contact her, here's her number. But don't feel obligated, just take your time."

Aeris nodded and accepted the note. After a long moment of scrutiny, she folded it in half, thereafter shoved it into her right pocket. Tifa decided it was best to back down and cease the mangling of the poor woman's mind. Instead, they shifted focus from her life, to theirs, and the events that came to lead them where they were at present.

The two still kept in touch with former AVALANCHE comrade Barret Wallace, whose nine-year-old stepdaughter Marlene now went to school, and they lived somewhere on the other side of town. They were both well: Barret made his living as a mechanic, and Marlene was an enthusiastic student. Nanaki stayed in Cosmo Canyon, looking after his village. Reeve, the man behind Cait Sith, settled down in Junon and opened a small business, or so Tifa had heard. Yuffie had returned to her father, Godo, in her hometown Wutai, and held guided tours of her town for tourists; she found it to be a successful plan in restoring the town's former glory, and gain the money necessary to re-create all that was lost in the war. Cid married Shera, still lived in Rocket Town in the same house as before, and they now had two sons. Vincent lived somewhere on the outskirts of this city, allegedly supporting himself as a gunsmith. Out of everyone from former AVALANCHE, he was the one to keep in touch with Tifa and Cloud the least.

As the days passed, Aeris learned more of Cloud and Tifa's relationship, and the small son they had together. She felt somewhat jealous of this fact; Tifa was a very lucky woman, she thought to herself; she had Cloud, and Aeris stood by and watched the two of them together. She embraced this fact, however; if these two had chosen to be together and were happy that way, she truly had no reason to grieve or complain, she thought to herself; she figured it wasn't the end of her world, and these two were the closest friends she had. Instead, a smile graced her lips; she felt happy for these two, and she was proud of them for being so strong and brave that they moved on with their lives and managed to stick together after all they had gone through. Aeris loved these two, no matter what they chose to do with their lives, and she was grateful to see her two friends alive and in good health.

Eight days passed since she'd arrived at her two friends' home, and Aeris got acquainted with her new surroundings. Cloud and Tifa lived in a rather large dark orange two-story wooden house, with its own backyard. The house itself was situated in-between two concrete buildings, and was esthetically and technically a superior construction compared to the others around it (and many others they had looked at). This was exactly why Cloud and Tifa had fallen for its charm and decided to invest their money in it. The house was completely new when they bought it, only about a year old, with no previous owner.

The ground floor was their restaurant, _Seventh Heaven_, named after Tifa's old bar. The interior of the restaurant amazed Aeris greatly: the furniture in there was a collection of all sorts of different tables and chairs of various sizes, shapes, colors and material, but most of all wood. On the walls hung hundreds of pictures, posters, news articles, and items collected on their many journeys, many of which Aeris recognized. It was a cozy place, and she was not surprised to find out that this was a popular place in town. She praised the two for the odd, but original idea.

On the first floor was their home; a wooden staircase led straight up to their side of the house from a secluded part of the ground floor. Up there, most walls wore floral-patterned wallpaper, while others were painted in pale uniform colors. They had a large dining room, but ironically, a rather small kitchen, though big enough for three people, four at most. Two bedrooms, a living room, and two bathrooms occupied their floor, all connected by a hallway. At the end of the hall, a flight of stairs led up to the top floor, which only had two rooms; one that was the guestroom, which became Aeris' own room, and the study. This humble little room with lovely bright peach walls and a twin bed in the middle was very inviting, and made Aeris feel at home. To the right of the door as she entered, was a large window in the sloping ceiling, which admitted an abundance of daylight, keeping the room bright most of the day. To the left, right by the wall stood a desk and a chair together, and next to it, a closet. Aeris found this room very pleasant, and did not hesitate to move in there.

Aeris wondered about the study, because it was the only room Tifa had not shown on her tour of the house. She explained that three months ago, Barret evidently not only verbally abused his landlord, but nearly strangled him as well, and was as a result of his actions evicted, effective immediately. Barret never disclosed what exactly happened to provoke his rage like that, but knowing the man, Tifa was certain that he most likely had his reasons. Nevertheless, this conflict meant having to move once again to a new place, and he settled temporarily somewhere on the other side of the city, in a much smaller home than the previous one. This led to another problem: he was forced to ask his former comrades for help, as he had nowhere to store one third of all of his belongings. Being the helpful and generous friends that they were, Cloud and Tifa offered to keep his possessions and furniture boxed up and covered for the time being, and because they neither had a cellar nor an attic, the study was the only space they could use for this purpose. Ever since then, the room was almost completely crammed with "Barret's boxes", and Tifa had yet to receive word on when he would come and pick them up.

The walls of the stairwell connecting the first and ground floor were packed with photos in black wooden frames. Aeris spent a great deal of time lingering on the stairs simply studying those images of some people and places she vaguely recognized, as well as faces and sceneries she didn't remember seeing.

One photograph in particular caught her full attention. Although in color, it appeared to be an aged image, faded and somewhat blurred, even a tad creased where it had been folded in half once; certainly a unique sample in this vast collection. In this particular photo, Aeris discerned a younger Cloud in a strange dark blue infantryman uniform, holding a helmet in one hand, while the other arm encircled the shoulders of a man to his left. The young man standing confident and proud next to Cloud was a pleasant-looking fellow, tall and attractive, with a shock of black hair and a remarkable pair of blue eyes hauntingly similar to Cloud's. They both smiled and gave any beholder the impression that they must've been the best of friends, or maybe even brothers.

To her amazement, Aeris found she could not tear her eyes away from this picture, as they continued to linger on this stranger's face. She drew nearer for a clear view of the black-haired young man, and stared at him in wonder. Her mind trailed off; one hand instinctively reached for the image, fingers softly touching the glass with which it was covered in its black wooden frame, running delicately over that eerily familiar face. Who was he? Why did he look so familiar? But most of all…what was that peculiar sensation within her bosom as she beheld this image?

The sound of footsteps and voices from the first floor broke off her train of thoughts. Instead, she went on with her study of this album on the wall. Not surprisingly, there were plenty of photographs of the couple's little son, Claudan. In most of the pictures, he wore a broad smile on his face; he looked like a very happy child; it was something that Aeris herself could testify.

Aeris had gotten to know Claudan himself over the past eight days - "His Majesty", as Tifa jokingly called him. He was a lively toddler like any other, with big brown eyes and fallow curls. He liked to talk, and taking Aeris' hand in his, he claimed her as his new playmate; indeed, 'Aewis' was incredibly popular with the boy. She didn't mind at all; she found him to be 'adorable', she'd said. Looking at this child, Aeris admitted, that he resembled Cloud the most, with Tifa's brown eyes, and strangely, her smile.

The boy's own room was a wonderland on its own, nearly overflowing with toys and everything a child would possibly wish for. Aeris could tell from the way his room had been furnished, that Claudan was this couple's treasure: she finally understood why he'd gotten the nickname "His Majesty".

Aeris moved into their guestroom, and Tifa had kindly provided her with necessities like soap, a hairbrush and a towel, and a couple of garments from her own wardrobe.

Tifa noticed that her friend withdrew and sought privacy in her new room, rather than the company of her, or Cloud. She never disturbed Aeris when she kindly asked for some space and solitude. During that time, she would close the door and shut the other three out. Tifa could not guess the reason behind her odd behavior, nor did she ever bother to ask. Instead, she assumed that her friend simply needed time to adjust to her new life, and to sort things out.

She began to notice changes in Cloud's behavior as well. In eight days' time, he had relapsed back to his old ways; exactly the way Tifa remembered him shortly after Aeris' apparent death, when he'd spiraled into depression. He spoke less to his girlfriend, his demeanor evasive and cold. Aeris was his sole priority, everything else appeared unimportant to him, and everything – his family, his work, and his duties – had to suffer because of it. There was only Aeris; her health, her well-being, her safety, and her comfort; now his whole life revolved around her.

To him, Aeris seemed to represent that which was unattainable – a love that could never be. Tifa was aware of this, and how it saddened her. Yet, she could not blame Aeris for it. Not at all; it wasn't her fault. She gave Aeris everything she needed, and treated her fairly, like a member of their family.

Even so, the turmoil within distressed poor Aeris; knowing that she was supposed to be dead, though somehow lived in spite of what had happened to her, raised a lot of questions. The extent of the damage done to her was difficult (if not impossible) to assess, and had been irreversible; forever leaving its marks on her body and soul, and her once beautiful mind so full of youthful energy and mirth. It had all been reduced to ashes: precious memories faded, emotions she had once felt intensely were now only fragments, trapped somewhere deep within her heart and would not resurface. This was all that was left of what she used to be.

She felt all the more torn as a curious feeling continued to gnaw at her. Ever since the first time she had woken up at Icicle Inn in that strange old man's house, there was one particular sentiment that clung to her with incredible persistence. This was that very same feeling, and she realized what it entailed: she would have to leave this place and her friends behind to search for answers to her questions, and seek to reconnect with herself; to become a whole person once again.

While a part of her insisted on staying here, where she was close to her friends (where she was safe), deep down, she felt that this was something, a journey, that she would have to take on her own, without the involvement of her friends; Cloud and Tifa had a lot on their plates already and the last thing they needed was her own emotional baggage to deal with on top of everything else.

She thought of the benefits, as well as the risks involved, and began to form a plan. How would her friends take this? It was indeed a touchy subject, and she knew they would not like it, but she felt that this was something she had to do.

With the help of her long staff, she rose from her spot on the wooden floor and made her way toward the door, which she unlocked with a single key. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and faced the staircase. Then came a difficult task; she grabbed hold of the banister for support with one hand, and held on to her staff with the other to prevent her from falling, afraid that her weak legs might give in and have her tumble down the stairs. Thus, she descended slowly, watching every step.

Dinner was almost ready when she entered the dining room, and Claudan had already taken his spot in his own chair. A bunch of crayons lay sprawled out on the checkered tablecloth, and the boy sat there, doodling away on some sketchpad. Being the small child he still was, Claudan's doodles were mere scribbles of inconsistent lines, spirals, and occasional shapes resembling strange deformed stick-figures. Nevertheless, the boy looked so busy and concentrated on his artwork, he took no interest in his surroundings.

Tifa, however, instantly came out to greet her friend, and invited her to have a seat close to her son. She offered her some tea, which Aeris kindly accepted. Waiting for the water to come to a boil, she chattered away cheerfully about the near future, and spoke of her plans for the weekend. Some sort of festival would take place in the city during the Saturday and Sunday, with street musicians, performances, sales stands, carousels and general merrymaking. Her wish was for the four of them to attend; they all needed a chance to relax and enjoy themselves for a change.

Yet, Aeris did not respond to whether or not she found her friend's suggestions agreeable, other than a monotonous 'hmm' every now and then; something else preoccupied Aeris' mind; she stared vacantly at the two bangles which decorated her wrists, appearing rather dejected.

"What's wrong?" Tifa inquired when she finally noticed her friend immersed in deep contemplation.

Aeris glanced up at her friend for a moment, then returned her gaze to her wrists. "Tifa..." she began feebly, while running her fingertips along the gleaming surface of her bangle and fidgeted in her chair. She hesitated. Tifa suspected that whatever thoughts were preoccupying Aeris' mind, they could not have been pleasant.

The latter returned her gaze to Tifa abruptly, and then decided in a firm tone of voice, "I need to go away for a while."

Tifa stared at her, almost in shock, completely bewildered by that statement. "Huh? What-why? You just came! Where are you going?"

Aeris confessed, "I still have so many questions I _need _answers to, and the only way I can find out is if I leave. You've helped a lot too, I can't deny that. But this is a journey I must take. I need to go back to the place where I…'lost myself', and go from there."

Tifa let those words sink in with a sigh, and she pondered them. "I realized that. Well, I can't tell you not to, of course. When have you been thinking of leaving?"

"I'd leave tomorrow if I could."

"Tomorrow!" Tifa cried.

"Not tomorrow _per say_, but…"

"Does Cloud know about this?"

"Not yet."

Tifa shook her head in disbelief; this was a problem. Nevertheless, Aeris merely nodded, appearing resolute.

"If there is any way at all that I can regain my memories…so I can be what I once was, even if it's just a fraction of what I used to be, I want to do it. But I don't think staying here is how that'll happen."

"There's no way of talking you out of this, is there?" Tifa asked, smiling amiably at her friend despite this dilemma. "All right," she conceded, though regarded her with a solemn look on her face, "But there are conditions to you leaving, you know. Actually, there's just one; all I ask—"

Before she could finish, Claudan tugged at his mother's long hair, and waved around his drawing; he demanded her attention, proudly showing off his artwork.

Tifa looked at his colorful scribbles, and dismissed him gently with a smile, "That's very nice, sweetie! It looks great!"

Aeris glanced at the toddler with a grin, and then reverted her gaze back to Tifa. The latter went on, "As I was about to say, since I highly doubt that Cloud will like the idea of you going, least of all alone, I say we send someone along with you to ensure your safety."

Aeris' brow creased slightly in a frown, obviously displeased with Tifa's suggestion. She propped her fists on her hips in annoyance. "I don't need a babysitter!"

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way. Please understand," Tifa admonished, "that after what happened five years ago, we can't simply let you leave and not make sure you're safe. If anything happened to you, I can't imagine how I'd feel…especially Cloud. Besides, he's in such a state of mind, there's just no talking any sense to him right now."

"There's no talking any sense to whom?"

The two, but especially Tifa, started at seeing Cloud standing at the threshold, looking none too amused; he had caught them discussing something important behind his back.

"We'll discuss it later, Cloud," Tifa dismissed him light-heartedly, and changed the subject, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm _starving_! Who wants dinner?"

"Din-din!" Claudan cried happily.

With that, she scurried off back to the kitchen, and began to prepare for dinner. She called the rest of this little 'family's' names from the kitchen, asking them to take a seat at the big, round table. Cloud sat himself in his chair beside Aeris, who looked up at him with a smile. The former kept gazing suspiciously between her and Tifa. He did not like the sound of what they were discussing. Aeris avoided his eyes, pretending as though nothing had happened: and with a smile, she grabbed her plate, anticipating Tifa's delicious dinner happily.

Later the same night, when everything had calmed down, and Tifa tucked in Claude, Aeris lay awake in bed, staring at the black ceiling. No sleep came to her eyes; her heart refused to stop pounding hard in her chest, and respiring became a chore. Feeling nauseous and agitated, she sat up in bed. She clasped her hand over her chest in an attempt to calm her heart, and inhaled deeply, then exhaled. She repeated this process five times, feeling a stabbing pang of agony each time. Her agitation would not abate, however, and she decided to leave the cozy bed and get herself a glass of water. She fumbled for her long staff in the dark and grabbed hold of it for support.

Quietly opening the door, she ventured outside, carefully making her way down the stairs. As she tiptoed through the hallway, making her way to the kitchen, two familiar voices floated to her ears, and she stopped instantly. She could make out Cloud and Tifa's voices, and saw that the door to their room had been left slightly ajar, probably to admit some air. A narrow sliver of light escaped through the tiny opening.

The intensity and volume of their voices increased, and it upset poor Aeris all the more; a fervent discussion went on inside their room, apparently concerning a serious matter. She knew not whether to advance further, or retreat, acting like nothing happened, and force herself to sleep somehow. Instead, she was frozen in her spot pathetically, and could not help but overhear their dispute. She heard them very clearly, every word they said: –

"I don't think we have a choice, Cloud," she heard Tifa argue, "And I don't believe you're at all in the position to make any decisions concerning Aeris-"

Aeris gave a start when she heard her name being mentioned. She moved slowly closer to their door to hear better what they were talking about. Now that she had taken notice of them talking about her, she had to know what they were discussing.

Cloud retorted gruffly, "This isn't about _her_!"

Tifa sighed. Her voice grew softer than before as she reprehended, "No, because it's about _you_. That's what it's been about all along. Because you feel you've let her down, and now you're desperate to 'compensate' for it, even at the expense of everyone around you...including _us_; your family. And even if that means treating her like she can't do anything on her own, without you being there constantly."

She pressed a hand against her heart and went on, even more tenderly. "I know what's going on here; I know how you feel. And I also know that you love her."

Such a candid statement warranted Cloud's attention at once, and he stared at her as though caught in the middle of a crime. He looked for the right response, the best excuse, anything to refute her claim.

"Come on, Cloud, we all know that's how it is," murmured Tifa softly. "But, you can't tell me that what you're doing to Aeris is love! You can't call it love, when you wish you could keep her locked up here, even though it's clearly against her will! Do you honestly think that she wants you to be like this? Do you think it makes her happy, seeing you the way you are now?"

"Who said I wanted to keep her locked up?"

"Well, _you_ did, just now."

"I just meant that she's safe _here_ with us, that's all!"

Tifa would not retort this time. Instead, there was a long pause, and neither of them spoke to one another. Only the ticking of the clock seemed to interrupt the silence. By now, Aeris' heart raced, and her breath stopped short in anticipation.

Tifa closed her eyes and sighed. "You're allowing yourself to sink into despair. It's been five years, and you're letting it happen again; you're on a downward spiral."

Cloud regarded his girlfriend meaningfully, but said nothing.

"I know it sounds cruel, and I wish I could say otherwise, but...her living here with us is not in her best interest. If you truly care about her, you'll let her do what she has to do; how can you even think of letting her go on like she is now?"

To that, Cloud had nothing to say. Tifa realized she must have hit the mark; his silence proved it.

Despite the heated conversation between the two, Tifa managed to stay composed and resolved.

"I can tell she's shattered, just like you are. Which is why I want to give her a chance to re-build her own life, her sense of self, so she can be a whole person again. She can't depend on either of us forever, or anyone else for that matter; she has to be able to make it on her own and have her own life, like she used to. We're only here to give her a push in the right direction. All I ask is...don't torture yourself over the past. Don't expose your son to this, either. And please...respect Aeris. Respect her enough to let her have her freedom to make decisions for herself as an adult; you don't have the right to make them _for_ her and treat her like she's incapable of looking after herself."

Cloud seemed to be struggling internally with something. The man hung his head in shame and sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Tifa. But…I can't just pretend like nothing happened." His voice softened when his eyes met hers, and he pleaded, "I haven't been myself lately, but it's not what you think. Please just…give me some time. I'm really confused, and honestly, I'm at my wits' end: I just _don't know what to do_! I don't understand how this is possible, how she's even…" He buried his face in his palm, and the rest of his words got caught in his throat.

Tifa stroked his hair affectionately in an attempt to console him. "I don't know what's going on either, Cloud. But this is really not the time to dwell on that. You need to get your act together, and quick. We both do. Right now, to me, all that matters is that she's alive in the first place. We have to focus on the _now_."

Cloud could not argue with her further; there was no use, and he knew that she was telling the truth. Still, on the other hand, he did not want to imagine what would happen if Aeris were to die once more, and disappear out of his life forever. He shut his eyes, and attempted to occupy his thoughts elsewhere. Much to his despair, he found that he could not; his stubborn mind kept producing images he did not want to see.

He felt torn apart; he wanted to be there for Aeris and protect her at all times, but knew he could not. He could not spend every waking minute of his life watching over her. He couldn't take it upon himself to throw away the life he had chosen, and his family, because of his fears and guilt, nor could he demean Aeris and treat her like he had the right to seize control of her life. He had no right to split the family in two because of the past. On the other hand, he couldn't control his emotions, least of all his fear; if he wouldn't protect her now like he should have, it would be the end of him. It became an obsession so strong; it tormented him and gnawed at his heart non-stop. He felt such overwhelming guilt for hurting Tifa; he loved both her and their son; the mere thought of causing either of them any grief anguished him. Alas, confusion clouded his mind, and his heart steered him towards Aeris once again, like so many years before.

"Anyway, I've been thinking," Tifa declared, snapping Cloud out of his reverie. "I believe that anyone in former AVALANCHE would be more than willing to accompany her; after all, we all have a lot to thank her for, don't we?"

Right then, an irritating sensation crept through her nose, and Aeris could not help it when a sneeze erupted out of her with an incredible force. Luckily, she managed to muffle the sound with her hands.

Even so, she heard Tifa's voice from inside: "Hey, did you hear that? You think Claude woke up?"

It didn't take long before Aeris decided it was time to retreat, before either of them noticed her eavesdropping on them. She cleared the hallway, and hurried back up to her room.

She spent a long time lying awake that night, hearing the same conversation echo over and over again in her mind.

When Aeris stumbled sleepily into the dining room the following morning, there was no Tifa or Cloud there to greet her, only silence; not a soul stirred. With her long, let down ruffled brown hair and a creased white nightgown, Aeris staggered into the hall, and advanced further towards Claude's room. She found the boy still lying sound asleep in his bed, curtains closed and blinds down, shutting out all daylight.

Strange, Aeris thought to herself. By this time, the boy would be wide-awake, and they would all gather around the table, having breakfast together.

Those thoughts were soon interrupted when she heard voices emanating from behind her; the voices seemed to be coming from the living room. She began to make her way towards the source, slowly, quietly. Every step, she took with care, as to not make a sound. Upon arriving at the threshold, she pushed the already open door ajar, and she was taken by surprise at the sight.

Cloud and Tifa instantly saw her enter as they were standing in plain view of the door. The expression on both faces equally as surprised as the one she had. There was a third person there with his back turned to her, facing the other two; a tall stranger with long black hair, who fell silent upon noticing both Cloud and Tifa's eyes fixed on something behind him. The raven-haired man whirled his sight around mechanically, only to freeze in a sudden miasma of shock and disbelief. He searched the misty emerald eyes staring back into his own and stood there as though petrified in place, staring at the woman on the threshold. He then turned to look at Cloud and Tifa again. Although his face bore no expression, he gave the two a stern, piercing look, silently demanding an explanation. He spent a long time glancing between this couple and Aeris, refusing to believe what he saw.

"It was...not just an illusion," he managed to barely choke out under his breath.

He recalled that evening, when he saw a cloaked figure in the streets, which appeared eerily familiar. He'd thought himself delusional for thinking it could be who he imagined it to be. Still, when she ran from him in an obvious scramble to avoid him, he could not help but think that it was, indeed the same person he'd known from before, and the same he'd seen impaled and murdered right before his eyes. And yet, she was standing there in front of him, very much alive.

Vincent found no words to express his confusion and bewilderment, and merely let his brooding eyes linger on her face. Rooted to his spot, and stone still in place, the man did not flinch a muscle. However, his gaze soon returned to Cloud and Tifa. Suspicion grew in him; had they known about this all along? He quickly abandoned that idea, though: judging by Cloud's passionate outburst after he'd suggested there was even a slight possibility that it was Aeris he'd seen that night, they might not have known after all.

Cloud swallowed his pride and forced out with restraint, "I've called you here to apologize for our last encounter," he addressed Vincent alone, though avoided his eyes in shame, "I admit, it was wrong of me to yell at you, when you were telling me the truth. I'm sorry."

The latter said nothing in response; instead he simply beheld this man thoughtfully. It struck him how Cloud had changed since the last time they had spoken to each other, no longer than six weeks ago. The air itself in the room seemed to thicken, and Cloud's behavior certainly baffled him, even more than his outbreak during their last encounter. Vincent sensed guilt within him, along with confusion intertwined with anger and self-contempt; they were consuming him whole, and Cloud appeared to let them. Indeed, it did not look like Cloud put forth much effort to fight them off or overcome them; instead he let them 'eat away at him', as Lucrecia had described it.

"Apology accepted," he said casually, and fell silent once more.

Vincent directed his attention to Tifa. The woman had not spoken at all for several minutes, yet he saw it all so clearly, written across her face; she was struggling to stay strong despite everything, not once uttering a word of complaint. Vincent grew increasingly uncomfortable with the situation and the stuffy air in this room. He thought it best to retire, now that it seemed there was nothing left to be said, leaving these three alone rather than loiter any longer in this unpleasant, piercing silence.

He hummed monotonously, "I see you have said what you wanted to say. I'd best be going now."

With that, he swung around and marched off towards the door, with the intentions of leaving as fast as he could. The other three watched him, stunned. He passed through the door, brushing past a rather intimidated Aeris. He cast a very brief glance at her, then disappeared out of sight.

Tifa hurried after him on his way to the exit downstairs, leaving a speechless Cloud all by himself in the living room.

"Wait!" she called, lowering her voice at once, "I need to speak with you."

Vincent advanced no further, and faced this woman indifferently. She glanced around for a spot to sit down, and motioned for him to come with her; obviously, there was some matter she wanted to discuss with him, which apparently could not wait. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was that she wanted to tell him.

"Say, are you in a hurry?" Tifa finally asked, "I'm not holding you up or anything, am I?"

He pushed some stray hair strands out of his face nonchalantly, and replied, "Not really."

"Then maybe you don't mind joining me? C'mon, have a cup of coffee with me!" she insisted, and led him into the restaurant area, which did not open until later that morning. She invited him over to the bar, and began to prepare some coffee for both of them behind the counter. She looked directly at Vincent, and thought it best to cut to the chase while she waited for their hot drinks.

"I'm sure glad you decided to show up, on such short notice too," she began, "especially after that little circus with Cloud. How I could deck him for-"

"Cloud's reaction was perfectly reasonable," Vincent dismissed her claim.

"Well, I still think he overreacted. I know, it's all so strange; I can barely believe it myself. Each morning I get up, I keep thinking it was all just some really strange dream," she confessed, still keeping her voice low, "And then I realize it's somehow really happening. I don't know what to make of it."

Vincent said nothing, though he knew perfectly well what she meant. He let his eyes wander, gazing vacantly at his surroundings while he contemplated her words.

"Which leads me to what I wanted to talk to you about," she proclaimed, immediately snapping him out of his gloomy meditation. "I called you here, 'cause I have a favor to ask of you."

Vincent regarded her from the corner of his eye, waiting for her to elaborate. He lingered in front of the counter for a minute, until he decided to sit himself on one of the tall wooden bar stools casually.

Tifa went on, "It's actually about Aeris; she wants to leave town for some time, but she couldn't say for how long. Cloud and I have discussed this, and we think that letting her leave is the best option for her right now. All we ask for is that she doesn't leave unaccompanied; she needs an escort - and a bodyguard for that matter."

Vincent flinched involuntarily when it occurred to him what Tifa's conclusion would be. He stated the already obvious answer, "I see. I assume you're thinking _I_ should escort her."

"That's right. Will you?"

An awkward silence followed. Tifa gazed at the man, but the latter avoided her eyes. His stoic face masked his emotions perfectly; something gnawed on his conscience, but he decided not to share it with his friend. When he finally lifted his eyes again to meet Tifa's, he grinded out his reply, "I can't do that."

Tifa had already prepared herself for that answer. She still insisted, "All you need to do is to keep an eye on her and make sure she stays out of harm's way - it's not a difficult task; I'm sure you'll do fine."

The man still would not speak.

"I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but from the looks of it, it seems you're the only one I can ask."

Rather than respond to that request, he asked, "Where is she going?"

"I don't know," Tifa admitted flatly. "She said she wants to find answers, and leaving the city is the only way that can happen," she sighed and dropped her gaze to the counter.

Vincent said nothing to interrupt her story, and his eyes narrowed, still lingering on top of the counter, while he let it all slowly sink in. "'Answers'? What kind of answers?"

"Well, she suffers from amnesia," the tender-hearted woman explained. "No one knows whether it's temporary or permanent, but she's lost her memory almost completely."

Vincent gazed directly into Tifa's eyes. "Almost? So she _does_ remember some things about her past then?"

"Only fragments. Cloud and I have spent the past couple of days talking to her, trying to help her remember, but to tell you the truth, she hasn't showed much improvement. I don't know, there's something off about her."

He began to see the reason behind Tifa's concern, and Cloud's odd behavior. It originated from over five years earlier, when Aeris mysteriously disappeared, leaving them with only a clue of her whereabouts, and some ambiguous reason for her going there. She left the rest of AVALANCHE behind, and journeyed to the Forgotten Capital unaccompanied. And then, the unthinkable happened, when seemingly out of nowhere, Sephiroth descended, with the sole intention to extinguish her life – and he succeeded. Cloud feared that history would repeat itself; that she might get harmed somehow, if there wasn't anyone around to protect her against any potential danger.

Tifa went on, "I'm not asking for much, only to watch over her and make sure that she's safe. Being a former Turk, I say you're experienced and you know what it entails to be a bodyguard; I know you can handle it."

Vincent turned slightly away, avoiding Tifa's gaze as a dark scowl creased his brow.

She added in a reassuring tone, "I'll compensate you for it."

Vincent scratched the back of his head in bewilderment. "There's no need for that…"

Although uncertainty plagued him, loyalty towards his friends urged him to offer a helping hand. He wanted to decline; it would have been so much easier to say 'no', and leave. Then it would be their problem (or someone else's), and not his. The words lingered on his lips, and logic warned him that those words were the right ones. But here she sat, at her wits' end, trying her best to find a solution to a dilemma, and to walk out on her would have been a foul act on his part.

He let out a long-drawn sigh of defeat. "Very well," he pronounced, albeit reluctantly, "I'll consider it."

A smile lit up Tifa's face at once as a result of his answer. "Sure. Just drop me a message so I know if you'll go or not."

The former nodded in agreement.

Tifa added in a more serious tone, "I'm sure you can understand, that if Cloud were to go...well, it's really best if he doesn't. Especially for Aeris' sake."

"Yes, I know what you mean, Tifa; I will see what I can do."

Tifa smiled in acknowledgement; she knew he would understand. She then prepared their hot beverages, and reached him a small cup of steaming black coffee. "Well then, here you go: I assure you, it's the best coffee in town!"


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI**

**The Elder**

Much to Tifa's relief (and Cloud's surprise), Vincent had agreed to escort Aeris. What he had not predicted, however, was such a long journey. Try as he may, he could not guess Aeris' reasons for choosing Cosmo Canyon as her destination, neither would he bother to inquire about it; he reckoned that in due time, it would be revealed to him one way or another.

During their long and tiresome journey by air and then by sea, Aeris had spent some time examining Vincent discreetly while attempting to strike up conversations with him which were not particularly fruitful. Most of the time, he would fold his arms across his chest, as if to close her off, seemingly absorbed in his own meditation. When he eventually responded, he'd do so with little interest.

Up close, she noticed how stern-looking he was; grim, brooding and gloomy; faint dark circles hung beneath his eyes, marking these features all the more, having him appear particularly rigid and unfeeling. What struck her as most odd, however, were his eyes; they were a highly unusual, crimson tint. She had never seen eyes like his before. Aeris found him a peculiar man, to say the least; stiff in his demeanor; aloof and silent; he rarely spoke unless spoken to, and seemed to seek solitude rather than the company of others; always menacing, always preoccupied with some matter he would not share. Always harsh and uncaring in appearance, his lips not once graced with a smile. Admittedly, he frightened her somewhat.

Yet, this man accompanied her on her travels, and he was to ensure her safety. While the idea wasn't a pleasant one and she had protested at first, she certainly believed that if anyone could be a reliable guardian, then he would be that person; Aeris was confident that no intelligent life form would want to meddle in his affairs or get on his bad side.

Indeed, the thought alone sent a shiver down her spine, and it did not take long until she turned her attention elsewhere. The surroundings and the incredible scenery seemed far more intriguing, and she found herself lost in her fascination, and at a loss for words, examining every detail around her. She wandered off on the ship and enjoyed the sea breeze and lovely shades of blue, but always felt a pair of crimson eyes observing her.

The hours passed by with an incredibly sluggish pace, until they finally landed by the shore on a foreign continent. Balmy breezes blew in from the ocean, which now prepared to accommodate a red sun ready to rest. A mountain range rose behind them, terracotta in color, and odd in shape, unlike the pyramid-like mountains she had been used to from the Midgar area.

Cosmo Canyon rose magnificently over them, as the two former AVALANCHE members made their way up the steep rocky red peaks on foot to reach this secluded village. By the time they arrived, it was already pitch-black around them, with only the lights from the village ahead.

When they approached the entrance, a bony, rather obnoxious, irate man stopped them on their way inside the village.

"Hold it right there!" he exclaimed and obstructed their way, "This is as far as you go!"

Vincent frowned at this stranger's tone, but remained composed. He declared curtly, "We're friends."

When the man would not cease glaring and refused to move, Vincent added, "…of Nanaki."

At the mentioning of that particular name, the man immediately changed his tone and his frown faded. "Nanaki? Hey, why wouldn't you say so in the first place! Welcome!"

The two weary travelers were granted admission, and Vincent immediately saw to seeking out Nanaki himself while Aeris stayed behind to admire the village's signature bonfire. It wasn't long before Vincent returned with news that Nanaki had left town for some time and would not return until about two weeks. He told Aeris of this news, who merely twiddled her thumbs uncomfortably and half-regretted that she had dragged her friend across half the world for some stupid idea of hers. She began to think that this had been a waste of their time.

"You must be Aeris," interrupted a strange voice.

The odd pair turned around only to be met with the sight of an old woman dressed in traditional clothes typical for Cosmo Canyon residents. Her elbow-length white hair was braided in two plaits, her face was wrinkled and eyes appeared only as two slits when she smiled broadly. She wore a thin headband and large copper earrings, and appeared very old; probably around ninety, or so Aeris guessed.

"Oh, I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized.

"Who are you? And how did you know my name?" Aeris asked, looking puzzled.

"Your friend here came asking for Nanaki and mentioned your name, and I happened to overhear him. I am Irma," she presented, "I was once a scientist for Shinra, and a close personal friend of Bugenhagen."

Aeris and Vincent exchanged an odd glance. The elder went on, "Needless to say, you must be here for a reason. Please, allow me to be your guide."

Indeed, so many questions nagged Aeris non-stop; she could hardly wait to get started on her pursuit of answers.

"I've come to you because I need your help," she declared humbly. "You see, most of my past is cloudy, and I would like you to help me restore my memory, if that's even possible somehow. I want to remember who I am. And also…I want to know how I survived."

Irma grinned knowingly, and placed a compassionate hand on Aeris' shoulder.

"I understand that you're eager to get answers. But you just arrived, and it's getting late. Let me show you to your rooms so you can both have a good night's rest."

The two followed the lady, who lead them up many stairs and a rather tall ladder, until they arrived at the top of the village. This was a small room, with only a bed, and an old green checkered couch at the opposite wall, a mere wooden coffee table separating the two. Unlike the rest of the village, which had been carved from the mountain, the walls in this room were wooden, and possessed two windows.

"This is really cozy," Aeris admired. Though something bothered her. "But there's only one bed."

"Of course. I thought that your friend here could sleep on the couch," Irma replied with good humor, indicating Vincent. As opposed to her, Vincent did not smile or laugh; he seemed indifferent to her joke.

"Don't worry," she assured when she took notice of his serious expression, "You have a room too. If you follow me, I will make sure you don't get lost."

Irma turned once again to Aeris. "Get plenty of rest; you'll need it. And tomorrow, I will show you something."

With that, she bid her goodnight and motioned for Vincent to follow her. Aeris wished him a good night as well, but the man left without acknowledgment or a response.

She thought little of it, however, and placed her baggage on the couch and kicked off her boots. Sitting on this rather hard seat, she let her feet touch the cold floor. The sensation was soothing to her aching limbs. When she had taken a moment to rest, she began unpacking, and removed her jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the couch also next to her backpack. She prepared her nightgown for wear when she noticed a slip of paper lying about by her feet. Reaching out to grab it, she unfolded it and examined it with great interest. A series of numbers was scribbled onto it as well as the name Elmyra Gainsborough. She immediately recognized it as the note Tifa had given her. But how had it ended up here on the floor? It must have slipped out of her jacket, she guessed.

Aeris crawled beneath the covers of the bed, resting her head on the single pillow, all the while still studying the name written on that piece of paper.

This was her adoptive mother, she thought to herself; the woman who took her in and raised her as her own; the woman who protected her from Shinra for so many years. Perhaps she could help her remember! After all, she knew about her childhood, so she must have known the most about her life.

Still, her heart ached at the mere thought; Elmyra knew her adopted daughter to be dead. How could she expect to walk back into this woman's life, suddenly alive like nothing happened? This action could potentially traumatize Elmyra. She was afraid of what it could do to her foster mother. When her thoughts grew unpleasant, she left the note on the coffee table, and switched off the lamp, going straight to sleep.

* * *

Irma wasted no time summoning the odd pair after breakfast the following morning, chattering away gleefully about her sorely missed friend Bugenhagen, recounting fond memories of when he was still alive, as well as memories of a young Nanaki.

But she soon realized that she was stalling. "I won't bore you with irrelevant nonsense," she joked.

"Oh, you're not boring us at all," Aeris defended.

"A promise is a promise, and I told you I would show you something, so I will," Irma said earnestly. She looked directly at Aeris. "I understand that you are the last of the Cetra."

Aeris wanted to ask how she knew, but she saw no point. She assumed that Nanaki must have mentioned her at some point. Instead, she merely confirmed, "Yes…"

"Bugenhagen spent many years researching the Planet, the Cetra, as well as the lifestream. I have kept his findings and collected data safe for many years from the likes of Shinra and various people who have tried to obtain the information. But knowing that you are who you are, and because you're in need, I will let you peruse his collection."

"You will? Thank you! But…umm…where am I going?" Aeris queried, almost alarmed.

"Well…because Bugenhagen wanted to make sure Shinra wouldn't get their hands on his research, he buried it all in the Cave of the Gi."

"The Cave of the what?"

"The Cave of the Gi. It is located deep within this mountain; it's a maze, really, and it's crawling with…"

She couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence when she noticed Aeris' horror-stricken face.

"You know what? Bring your friend and you will be fine," she said with a light-hearted chuckle, pointing to Vincent. "Believe me, you will need his help."

Once Irma had introduced Aeris to the large metal door which kept the entrance of the cave sealed, the latter began to regret her decision to come to Cosmo Canyon. It was too late to back out now, she convinced herself; she had come all this way, and she was so close to getting some information about her origins, how could she possibly give up now and turn tail? No, she would see this through till the end. Thus, she bit her lower lip, determined.

"I'm ready," she declared.

"Wait! Before you go, take these," Irma announced, holding two lanterns which she handed over to the pair, as well as a map. "This is a rough draft of a map of the cave, so you don't get lost; it's a labyrinthine cavern, so always mark your path."

When prepared for their mission and well equipped, the elder opened what looked like a fuse box, and tinkered with the contents, then slammed the lid shut. The metal gate groaned and slid open in response to her actions.

Vincent instinctively reached for his gun when his face was hit with the draught from the mouth of the cave.

"Good luck," Irma cautioned. "Remember to mark your path."

Rather than stall, Vincent went ahead and entered, with Aeris close behind. Her bodyguard grabbed hold of a single rope and used it to descend into the abyss. The young woman threw Irma one last glance, and then followed Vincent's lead.


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII**

**The Cave of the Gi**

By the time Aeris reached the bottom of the cave, she must have regretted her decision to come down here in the first place about a thousand times. In a supposedly haunted cave, carrying no Materia, and a mere staff and a lantern? No, she thought to herself, definitely not one of her brightest ideas.

Her feet finally touched the ground after a long and tedious climb. She huffed and wheezed, gasping for air, her entire body moist from perspiration. She reminded herself that this was only the beginning. To think that they had barely even entered the cave! And already, her head swam, her ears rung, and her vision blurred.

"That only took you about forty-five minutes," Vincent pointed out sharply, appearing none too amused with her performance.

"Pardon me, but you weren't exactly helping," Aeris retorted.

Indeed, not once had he offered a helping hand, even though he had observed her as she struggled to cling onto the rope and not fall. Yet, he criticized her.

"Perhaps you should consider staying with Irma instead; you could save yourself the trouble," he suggested haughtily.

Aeris was none too appreciative of his condescending style. "I'm not quitting! Besides, how could you possibly know what I'm looking for anyway?"

Rather than answer, the man's impatience grew all the more apparent. "When you're done stalling, we should proceed."

"I'm not stalling!"

Not waiting another second, Vincent moved forward, and Aeris was quick to catch up with him despite her exhaustion. Staying close behind him, she held her lantern out in front of her to illuminate the rugged rocky road ahead, watching each step as not to stumble or fall into a pit. Following Irma's advice, she used the end of her staff to draw an 'x' in the soil every few meters they advanced, in case they would be unsure which way they had come from.

Gloom surrounded them, but when the buzzing in her ears finally abated, she found the silence in this tunnel to be quite soothing to her senses. At times, the wind's howling interrupted the stillness, or the drip-drop of water somewhere, but neither of the two spoke a word.

They silently agreed to take a short break. While Aeris rolled up the sleeves of her oversized woolen robe and adjusted it to her comfort, Vincent unfolded the scribbles which Elder Irma had referred to as a map. It was amateur at best; a 'rough draft' described it perfectly; hand-drawn and sketchy as it was; the map legend was, simply put, indecipherable. Even so, Vincent remained quiet and stoic as always, and continued forward with what little help it offered.

Some of the cavern walls glimmered in the vague light from their lanterns, giving off a beautiful green glow, reminiscent of tiny emeralds.

Aeris admired the sight, while her fellow traveler appeared oblivious to it. "You know…for being haunted, this place is actually rather pretty."

Without warning, the cloaked man stopped short, causing his friend to do the same. The latter blinked in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

He spun around and reached her the paper, which she examined curiously.

"Oh. What a terrible map," she granted, "it's not even readable."

"I know. But that's not the problem. There is this red dot," he said and pointed to the blot on the parchment which resembled a smeared fingerprint. "I'm assuming that's where we're going. Irma forgot to mention where to look, so now all we can do is to trust what this map says."

"If you say so," Aeris conceded and pulled the hood of her robe over her head and eyed the setting suspiciously. "I just hope we don't run into any ghosts or weird creatures."

Trudging through tunnel after tunnel for what felt like several hours, Aeris felt tired, hungry and yearned for a drink of water. It had not occurred to her that their 'little excursion' would in fact not be so little after all. She exhaled a sigh of relief when Vincent finally announced that they had reached their destination.

"We're here."

Looking around eagerly, to her dismay, she could see nothing conspicuous or strange, and she turned to her friend, confused, and shrugged. "Where is 'here'?"

"We're at the marking," he replied, pointing at the map.

"I can see that, but there is nothing here," she insisted.

For as long as they had walked, meeting mere rocky walls along their way, this location offered only more of the same.

"Certainly. If Bugenhagen intended to hide his belongings, it would obviously be out of sight," Vincent reminded.

Scanning his vicinity for even the smallest clue, he spotted what appeared to be a crevice in a wall nearby. Comparing it to the map, he could see that the red dot could have been indicating that same wall. Rolling up the map again, handing it to his friend, he marched over to the wall and kneeled, reaching an arm inside without the slightest hesitation, fumbling for anything he could find.

"Umm…Vincent? Is that really a good idea?"

He disregarded Aeris' concerns. Her tension rose the longer he stayed in the same position, determined, as though he was certain to uncover something inside that crack. With only touch to rely on, he discovered an odd-shaped stone which felt out of place. Grabbing hold of it, he realized it was slightly mobile; he twisted it, and managed to turn it like some sort of dial.

A muffled 'snap' resounded from his position. Vincent instinctively pulled his arm out and backed away. The same wall moved aside, sliding open, upsetting the earth itself as it trembled violently beneath their feet, its noise reverberated within the tunnel; it sounded like the earth itself cracked open.

When it all came to a halt and the dust settled somewhat, the two ventured forward. Aeris was hesitant to approach, but her guardian impulsively reached for his gun and lead the way.

As soon as they entered, and the soft light from their lanterns fell on their surrounds, a remarkable sight appeared before them; they had wandered into a hidden chamber behind a fake wall. Though humble in appearance, only big enough to allow two or three people inside, the space was stuffed with file cabinets, each drawer had a label, and the crude rocky walls wore shelves packed with books.

"Impressive," Vincent muttered under his breath at the spectacle, moving about, illuminating every corner of this small room.

Aeris scanned through the shelves of books with titles she could not even pronounce; it was scientific jargon by different authors, but she assumed it had remained from Bugenhagen's personal library. They appeared to be rare copies in worn covers, definitely used, and must have predated even Irma; some were visibly falling apart. She reckoned that nobody had visited here in a long time; the thick unadulterated layer of dust and cobwebs spoke for themselves. Six metal cabinets with four drawers each were crammed together in a row along the wall, every drawer marked with a single letter.

"There's so much information here, it would take days to go through it all!" she said when she found her voice again. "To think that Bugenhagen would store all of his life's research…his legacy, in a place like this…"

"He obviously wished to keep certain people from finding it…which means there might be information which not even Professor Hojo, or perhaps even Gast knew about," Vincent mused aloud.

Aeris could not help but marvel. Here was a treasure trove of information! And yet, she hesitated to touch any of the items they found. She had no right; nobody had that right.

"Is this really okay?" she inquired with a hint of guilt in her voice.

Vincent regarded her, and hummed coolly, "It's your call."

She approached one cabinet hesitantly and reached for the drawer with the letter 'C' written on it, pulling it open. She placed her lantern on top of the cabinet, allowing it to lighten the contents. Her fingers were quick, working their way through the files, but stopped short on the word 'Cetra'. The amount of documents on that particular subject matter were abundant, enough to fill two whole drawers, but she made certain to gather as many documents as possible regarding her people, as well as the Lifestream, and anything else of interest. Her backpack could fit nothing else inside, and it was almost too heavy to lift when she decided that she had what she had come for. And if not, she thought to herself reluctantly, she would most likely have to come down here once more; it wasn't an option she liked to consider.

"I think I'm done," she announced. "Let's get back before it's-"

Upon turning around, she found herself talking to thin air.

"Vincent?"

She struggled to get the bag onto her back, then left the hidden chamber and returned to the main tunnel. Her lantern illuminated her surroundings, and she spun around, inspected the surrounds, but sighted no Vincent. She called out his name some more. Nothing; there was only silence.

Something ominous lingered in the air; Aeris felt a pit in her stomach; his absence could not have been good news. Here she was, all alone in a maze, which was supposedly haunted, with her guardian suddenly gone missing, carrying a mere staff for a weapon, a lantern, and a heavy load on her back. She began to feel panic gripping her heart; her mind conjured up all kinds of horrid images of what would ensue next, or what may have befallen her friend.

No! She ordered herself to stop and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, letting go of these thoughts. Things have a way of working out, she reminded herself, and she had to keep a level head. What to do now? She looked at her lantern. It would burn for another hour, two at most. Still, what about Vincent? Was he going to be all right?

From the corner of her eye, she noticed movement in the shadows. She pursued it.

"Vincent?"

As if to answer her call, a ghastly figure emerged from the dark haze, floating through the air like a specter. It wore the tattered remains of what could have been some kind of cape, and a hood that obscured its pale face and hollow sockets where the eyes should have been. It approached a frightened Aeris steadily, thrusting the rusty old spear it carried, ready to attack her. She shrieked and backed up, heart pounding wildly, desperately defending herself with her staff, swinging it back and forth fast and managed to successfully deflect each attack. To her relief, the undead warrior collapsed to the ground after she'd dealt it a few blows. She breathed out again, pressing her hand over her chest; that was a close call, but she made it out alive in the end.

Before she could finish that thought, three more emerged and closed in on her, much to her horror and frustration.

Terror seized her by the very core when a bony hand reached out and grabbed her leg, jabbing its spear at her. Aeris was quick enough to block this attack as well with her own weapon, and in one swift move, slammed the end of the staff into the skeleton's head, sending him tumbling lifeless to the ground.

Relieved, she turned to the remaining two, only to see that there were now four additional creatures. Now, they were not mere warriors, but these crawled on all four. Their vicious growl and sickly green skin, and what looked like thorns growing from their back and ribcage earned a moan of disgust from the woman, and their glowing crimson eyes and canine teeth struck fear into her heart. She backed up in alarm, contemplating what to do next.

The reanimated beasts reminded her of rabid dogs, and there was no question about what they would do to her if she didn't think of something fast or fought them off somehow.

Too late; they lunged at her, with full speed, moving in for the kill.

Several ear-splitting gunshots were fired out of nowhere at the monstrosities. Their attention turned to the source, a man in a crimson cape, materializing from the shadows. The woman watched on, terrified, how her protector vanished in a miasma, then reappeared in a new location.

Still, what distressed her most were his unusually luminous eyes; this was her friend at his most unnatural; eyes and skin, as well as his movements all contrasted greatly to the man who came here as her escort. Aeris saw the fiends retreating of their own accord, merely wounded, but not even gravely; they appeared to be escaping.

"Vincent, what's going on? What-"

But Vincent would not answer and pushed her aside aggressively, rushing back into the nothingness from whence he had emerged.

"Wait! Don't leave me!"

She ran, although her feet ached miserably, and her knees were about to give in beneath the heavy weight on her back. When she finally came to a halt, she grabbed hold of the rugged wall to steady herself, and to catch her breath. A short moment of rest did the trick; now it was time to move forward again.

After a few minutes of chasing abstract shades, she spotted a dark figure in the blackness in what appeared to be a dead end, deprived of light. Aeris recognized the silhouette (what little she could discern), and the two crimson eyes almost gleaming in the dark. He appeared to be struggling with something, his breathing heavy and ragged.

"Stay back!" he ordered, when he finally took notice of her presence.

His voice sounded abnormal and distorted; it was more of a growl than speech. Aeris knew not what to make of it, and approached him carefully.

"What are you doing!? I said stay back!"

But Aeris was not intimidated. For the first time, she was not afraid of him, and did not dislike him. Fear and aversion all began to dispersed; all she saw now was some pitiful man. Instinctively, she wanted to reach out and help him, like some lost, frightened child, despite his heavy breathing.

"Vincent, it's okay."

The man clutched his head wildly with a sharp grunt, as though in pain. When he was no longer able to fight it, he gave in. Before the very eyes of Aeris, to her absolute horror, she witnessed his body deform and disfigure into something monstrous and despicable. Thick crimson horns erupted from his skull, his skin gained a deathly, dirty gray tint, and large black wings sprouted from his back, spreading wide across the cavern. The ogre let out an earth-shattering roar amplified by the acoustics of the cave, rocking the ground and causing her to cover her ears desperately for fear of bursting her eardrums.

This hideous demon could not have arrived from anywhere but straight from the deepest level of Hell itself; standing tall and statuesque, yet grotesque and revolting; like a gargoyle carved out of stone. Aeris retreated some steps in spite of herself and her breath stopped short. Staring agape and in complete horror, she refused to believe the sight before her. How was this possible?

She knew she could not fight him; small and frail as she was in comparison, she would never stand a chance against this fierce monster. Were she to stay, he would without difficulty snap her neck like a simple twig. If she'd turn around and run, her flight would most likely provoke the monster's predatory instincts, and he'd pursue her. And if she were to leave her comrade here by himself, what were to become of him? What if she would never see him again? What if he would die?

What to do?

Torn between compassion and fear for her life, in a stubborn (though desperate) attempt to reclaim her friend, she stopped, standing her ground firmly. "Vincent! Snap out of it already!" she demanded.

Like lightning, the beast dashed toward the woman, and grabbed hold of her arm, nearly crushing her fragile bones in its iron grip. Before she could react, he brutally hurled her several feet into the air, sending her flying out of the cavern like a mere rag-doll. The force of the impact against the rigid rocky earth left poor Aeris tremulous, gasping for air, moaning in pain, and she rubbed her scraped and bruised elbows which took the blow. Once she came to her senses, she had mere seconds to pull herself together and struggled to her feet with her staff as support. She turned around once more to face the demon in a tenacious effort.

Riveted to her spot, she knew not whether to back down or stay. Looking at this hideous creature before her, she knew he would have no relent, no mercy on her, and would never think twice to destroy her, to tear her body apart limb by limb if only to satisfy his voracious desire for devastation.

She wished, even prayed, for a sign - anything! Any nudge, any indication, any insight to help her out of this situation.

When she believed it was all finally over, she squeezed her eyes shut, expecting the end. One swift strike; that was all it would take, and her journey would come to an end.

Then something inexplicable and rather perplexing occurred. A memory flashed across her mind, and she recalled a phrase. Faster and faster spun the words in her mind; first only a vague whisper muffled by forgetfulness, then it grew louder and clearer until she discerned every word flawlessly. Whether this was useful or not, she had no time to ponder; she decided to try it.

From a distance, she detected the demon's terrible glowing pair of eyes now fixed on her, watching her closely, calculating her next move. She smelled his foul breath, and his deep, chilling growl sent shivers down her spine. The monster had spotted her, honing in on her. Still, Aeris stood her ground.

She sealed her eyes lightly, drew a deep breath, and pulling her staff near her body, clasping it with both hands as she leaned her head against it, she muttered something to herself. While the words came to her from an unknown source, she heard her chant become crooning. At first, a quiet song, then gradually, she raised her voice, singing louder, as if to an invisible audience coming to listen to her eerie melody. When she opened her eyes again, she tossed her staff up in the air.

Everything appeared to transpire in slow motion. She knew not what she was doing, and moved as though guided by some invisible force or instinct. She moved gracefully, partnered by her staff, all the while repeating the same melodious phrase.

When she finished her uncanny song and dance, the monster before her roared in disgruntlement.

Much to her astonishment, Aeris witnessed the creature revert slowly, losing his ghastly form, changing back into his regular self. All of the rage and violence subsided in that instant. He staggered backward clumsily, and his head swam; he steadied himself against the harsh cavern wall.

The young woman found herself incapable of producing a coherent sentence and looked between her hands and her staff, then back at her companion. The man could not comprehend what had transpired. Standing tall before her, he was still grappling for an explanation or a reason, but found none.

Pervasive would best describe the silence that commenced. Dull footsteps, and metallic clunks gave an echo against these stone walls when Aeris approached him slowly, always supported on her steel staff.

Waiting another minute until his pulse finally normalized, Vincent faced Aeris directly.

"Why are you here?" he demanded; the rigidity of his tone betrayed his irritation. He expected an answer right away.

"I came looking for you, that's why," she explained, and dusted off her robe nonchalantly. "You were gone, and I got worried, and you-"

Vincent scoffed at her explanation. He snarled, "That's not an answer! Do you realize what could have happened? You should have just returned to the village!"

The woman appeared unmoved by his threats and shrugged it off. "I'm all right."

He would not believe his ears, and found himself glaring at her incredulously. "Leave. You're no good here."

The tone he used provoked Aeris' fury; she propped her fists on her hips, and snapped, "You know, I think a simple 'thank you' would suffice for-"

"Just do as you're told!" Vincent growled in response. "You are in no position to talk back!"

That was the final straw. Aeris felt her blood boil, and tension rose within her to the point of an eruption; she clenched her jaw, and before he knew it, she lunged at an astonished Vincent, brutally grabbing his red cape and yanked him closer to her face with such violence. Her brow crinkled up in a frown, her eyes dark green with rage.

"I have HAD IT with your horrible attitude! Just who do you think you are anyway, bossing me around like I'm your subordinate, huh?" she spoke through her teeth at this point, seething. Vincent would not, and could not make a sound; he watched on in silence as the woman fumed and scolded him. She tugged at his cape, and added, with double the fury, "You had BETTER start being nicer to me! All this time, you've been nothing but cold, arrogant and condescending! I've been worried sick about you, scared that you might have died, and I busted myself to find you and I _saved you_! And you're the most ungrateful prick I have ever had the displeasure to meet! If you don't do something about that attitude, I swear, I'll…I'll…"

Do what exactly? Aeris had not the faintest idea. What could she possibly had done to him as punishment? She was powerless compared to him, and would he even care if she stopped talking to him, or tried to teach him some kind of lesson?

He stared at her, completely taken aback and amazed by her audacity. Of all the people he had met throughout his life, he had never encountered someone as tolerant, patient and utmost kind as Aeris. Anger was the last emotion he would have associated with her, and certainly had he never believed that she was capable of truly losing her temper.

Several seconds passed by in an agonizing, heavy silence. Vincent appeared to be trembling; it looked as though he was crying. Much to Aeris' astonishment, however, he suddenly burst out laughing; first, a hoarse but gentle chuckle, then erupted into almost hysterical laughter. Aeris was no longer angry; she merely watched him, completely bewildered by his reaction. She had never seen Vincent laugh, not even smile. What could she have said that was so funny?

But it didn't last long. The man collapsed to the ground with a grunt. Luckily, Aeris was ready to catch him, yet could not support his heavy weight all by herself; he weighed a ton for her delicate frame to bear. In a last ditch effort, she called out for help, hoping that somewhere, somebody would hear her.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

**The Lonely Recluse **

Through a dark haze, a faint light greeted his vision. He opened his eyes fully, and found that he was gazing at the sky. The bright blue heavens bore pale downy clouds drifting peacefully above him. He sat up, spying a vast field of lush green grass and flowers swaying back and forth in the soft wind, and it came into view perfectly from up on the hill where he was sitting.

Behind him, he saw a tall, sturdy tree occupying the center of the hill, its lovely green leaves rustling in the soothing wind. A rather young woman, slender, with long, flowing russet hair, leaned against the trunk. So beautiful was she, and gentle in appearance. She smiled when their eyes met.

Her smile and her voice both appeared unnaturally sweet when she spoke.

"I'm going to see my son! My child...my Sephiroth!"

The familiar statement melted all serenity away and obscured the sky and the landscape around him. He reached out for her, but all he could see was her scurrying across the fields, unwavering, while he was frozen in his spot and unable to move his limbs.

"No, wait! Lucrecia!" he called, but the woman did not hear him, and vanished before his eyes.

The next moment, he found himself lying on his back in a dim facility.

He looked up, and two glowing eyes peered down at him, with a monstrous silhouette he recognized at once. The demon snarled, and a shrill cry pierced his ears. In a flash, the monster moved in for the kill…

Vincent awakened from his slumber with a violent jerk and a gasp, perspiration dripping from his face. Vexed, he wiped it off on his sleeve. The beast was gone; clearly, he had been having another nightmare.

He found himself in a dark room, lying on top of a soft bed, though still wearing his clothes; he assumed someone must have laid him there. But who?

He froze in his spot when he noticed the presence of another person nearby. When he looked up, much to his surprise, he found Aeris standing next to him, hands clasped behind her back in her usual manner as she leaned slightly forward and peered down at him in a mixture of concern and wonder.

"Hey, it's all right! It's just me," she reassured.

For some reason, Vincent could not tear his eyes away from her, and stared at her in a daze, looking somewhat guilty, as though caught in the middle of a crime.

Almost all night, Aeris had spent lying awake in bed on her back, facing the ceiling where her eyes would dwell as her mind wandered. The majority of her nights here in this village were spent in this insomniac state. Tonight, however, a faint sound broke her train of thought. She lifted her head slightly from her soft pillow, and listened intently when she realized it was Vincent, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. She heard a cry of protest; it was sad to listen to. The strange and sorrowful nature of his otherwise low, composed voice certainly puzzled her, and she climbed out of bed, venturing over to where he laid in an uncomfortable position, drenched in sweat.

Back to the present, Vincent managed to catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall, and saw that it pointed to seven minutes past two; it was the middle of the night. Aeris stood over him, concerned. He studied her from top to bottom casually: the woman was barefoot, wearing nothing but a white sleeveless, ankle-length nightgown. Although the room possessed only what little light the moon offered, he could see that she appeared to have woken up recently, with her hair somewhat ruffled, and her eyes still retaining a drowsy look. He reckoned he must have spoken in his sleep and disturbed her slumber.

"Are you all right?" she asked after another long moment of silence and hesitation, looking apprehensive and smiled nervously.

"Yeah," he lied, avoiding her gaze. Still, Aeris examined him, knowing that he was obviously hiding something.

His voice grew somewhat softer when he asked after some time, "What about you? I probably woke you."

She shook her head. "I've been up. I heard you talking in your sleep, and you sounded kind of sad. I'm guessing you had a nightmare?"

Vincent confirmed with a single nod. He sat up further and rubbed his temples. Aeris could not imagine what kind of dream could possibly have upset him so terribly.

"What was it about?"

Vincent lifted his eyes briefly to return her gaze. He stated frostily, "It does not concern you."

"I'm just trying to be a friend," she admitted modestly. "Stop being so uptight."

Aeris was neither angry nor bitter, and argued no further; she realized it must have been a sensitive subject matter she was not allowed to touch, and decided to back down, at least for now.

Vincent steered away. "How did I get here?"

"You passed out in the cave; you've been unconscious since."

"How long ago was this?"

"Two days."

Vincent narrowed his eyes and merely hummed a low "hmm."

Silence stretched for a long moment. Aeris shuffled her feet awkwardly, before she finally ventured, "Why did you disappear? What happened…when I found you?"

He scoffed at her inquiry, and admonished, "You'd rather not know."

His dismissive attitude only served to agitate her. She retorted bluntly, "Oh, but I think I should. Since you came here as my bodyguard…and there's been a role-reversal here, as far as I'm concerned. So, as a matter of fact, you owe me an explanation."

Vincent conceded; she was right. Impromptu shape-shifting, and a life-threatening one at that, had not been part of the agreement when he decided to escort her. He braced himself for his reply. Although he hated the thought of telling her, he felt he at least owed her that much, after the trouble she'd gone through to help him. The man sat himself up slowly, always avoiding her eyes.

"I reckon Cloud and Tifa forgot to inform you of my…problem," he stated. "I have an abnormality; I carry a parasitic entity in my body, originating from an ancient-"

Aeris' confusion only grew all the more evident and she gazed at him with more questions in her eyes than before he had spoken. He picked up on her body language, and understood that for an untrained ear, his story sounded absurd as a mythomaniac's tale. A slower explanation was needed.

"Do you remember Sephiroth at all?" he forced out with restraint, watching her face, as though anxious he may have upset her.

Her eyes met his in a significant glance, although she said nothing; he realized that he had struck a chord. Aeris nodded slowly, albeit slightly mystified still.

"And the JENOVA Project?"

Once more, she nodded. "Cloud mentioned it."

"It was a scientific experiment," Vincent elaborated in a detached fashion, "named after an alien entity discovered up north, frozen in ice. Professor Hojo, one of Shinra's most…passionate scientists, injected cells from this life form into an unborn child, carried by a woman who was part of the team..."

His face became softer and more reserved. His voice grew quiet, and his eyes became gentler. Aeris was on edge with curiosity; what could have Vincent so gentle in his temper? He looked at her for a moment and then stared at the ceiling absently.

"…Lucrecia."

Somehow that name sounded familiar to her, but she could not place her finger on where exactly she had heard that specific name before.

"She was someone you really cared about, wasn't she?" Aeris assumed.

"I loved her," he confessed candidly.

"But she didn't love _you_."

Her words stung horribly. Yet, even despite the pang of pain, Vincent retained the same resignation as before.

"She was dedicated to her work; nothing was more important to her," he defended. "I tried to protect her and talk her out of it. I thought I could convince Professor Hojo not to carry out the experiment. But…I couldn't stop the experiment, nor could I change Lucrecia's mind about partaking in it. That is how Sephiroth came to be," he explained. "Of course, there were grave consequences for such a confrontation…for my interference."

Aeris watched him silently in horror while his story unfolded; she already knew how this story would end, and pressed a hand against her mouth, staring at him in her shock.

"Your assumptions are correct," he affirmed her gestured suspicions.

"Is that why…"

"…you saw what you had to see?" he finished her sentence. "Yes."

Overwhelmed with compassion, she put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so…so sorry."

"Don't be; I had it coming."

Aeris was offended. "You can't be serious! Are you suggesting that it was somehow your fault?"

"Professor Hojo was a rather erratic and vindictive man. And I meddled in his affairs."

He hated the most the recollection of waking up, thirty-five years ago, in that dim old dungeon. Shuddering and frozen stiff, he found himself lying on some cold operation table, surrounded by shelves of books and strange chemicals. An excruciating agony took a stab at his chest in a rhythm. The man found it difficult to draw breath, feeling nauseated beyond anything else. An exploding migraine plagued him, and no matter how hard he thought of it, he could not for the life of him remember how he ended up here in the first place. His feverish limbs burned...

He immediately pushed that horrid memory out of his mind.

"You were trying to protect someone you loved," Aeris reasoned.

Vincent jeered. "It was a selfish act; purely selfish. I was with Shinra, an excellent marksman; one of the Turks. I followed orders, regardless of their nature and I never questioned; I helped them lay waste to so many lives. All for my superiors; all to help Shinra build an oligarchy and a system based on oppression and lies. But I didn't care about any of that; I only cared about Lucrecia; the rest of the people I helped murder did not matter to me. I had a job to do, and that was that. Now tell me: _you_, with all your good faith in humankind: isn't this the retribution somebody like me deserves?"

Aeris withstood his intimidating voice. Still, she insisted, "Maybe that's the price you have to pay for your actions, but you're a different person now. The past is no more than an illusion; it exists only in your memory. And while it's a debt you're paying off, you create your own misery with your thoughts, when you think yourself unworthy of being happy. The only way you will heal if is if you learn to accept what happened, and forgive yourself; that's the only way you can truly move on."

Vincent glanced askance at his friend perched so comfortably by his side. He knew not why he was telling her his story, why he was confiding in her at all. Perhaps he deemed her trustworthy. Something told him she would understand. After all, she found herself in a similar position. He knew that if anyone, she would say it like it was; Aeris had never been known to sugarcoat the truth or even be heedful of other people's feelings when asked for an honest opinion; she was brutally honest, told the truth fair-and-square, even if the truth was harsh and even if others would perceive her as rude or insolent. She didn't care for semantics and playing pretend; she was candid, but fair. That was one of the qualities that Vincent appreciated in her; it was that one quality that prompted him to speak. Although vastly different, perhaps even polar opposites, in a way, they were also frighteningly similar.

She seemed to be rather enjoying it, unraveling the mystery that was Vincent Valentine. But what surprised her was the fact that he did not seem to mind it in the least. Rather than mind, he felt ten times lighter having released a burden he'd kept bottled up for decades. Indeed, Aeris perceived it too; the air around him was different than before.

"I suppose, now you can see the reason I was reluctant to join you; I didn't know whether I'd be more of a threat to your safety and wellbeing than I'd be of any help. What happened back in the cave was what I had been dreading all this time."

He paused.

"However, I will admit, that ever since that encounter, I've felt calm, and…in control. That has never happened before," he mused vocally. "And it was all _your_ doing."

She admitted, humbly but sincerely, "I don't know what I did exactly."

"Whatever you did, you saved me," he declared, looking straight into her two green eyes. "I must say…you've certainly got nerve; you just don't know what's good for you," he said, almost good-humouredly. Aeris smiled.

Reaching out a hand, he acknowledged with humility, "I still owe you my gratitude; I'm indebted. Thank you."

Aeris stared at his hand. When she looked up at him again, much to her astonishment, she realized that for the first time, he smiled at her. His crimson eyes had softened as well and now gleamed at their most sincere. She grinned back at him and reached him her hand, and he shook it.

"You're welcome," she confirmed humbly. "I'm sorry I lost my temper and yelled at you," she said when she withdrew her hand. "And that I called you an 'ungrateful prick'. I wanted to hurt you."

Vincent could not help but let out a soft chuckle to such a blunt statement. "I don't blame you."

A yawn attacked Aeris, and she covered her mouth. Fatigue finally caught up with her.

"Well, I suppose you should go back to sleep," Vincent suggested. "It's almost dawn."

The woman liked the idea. "That sounds like a plan," she conceded, and headed back to the green couch on which she had spent the past two nights.

Vincent, however, was none too fond of letting her sleep on an old couch, and suggested they'd switch places, at least for now. Aeris protested, but her weariness finally got to her, and she let him have the last word, taking the bed.

"Well…good night," she murmured, pulling the cover over herself.

"Good night," Vincent replied and took his place on the couch, trying to find the most comfortable position.

"Vincent?" resounded Aeris' timid voice.

"Yes?"

"I'm glad we're friends now," she confessed and smiled.

With that, she sunk further into the warmth of the mattress and her blanket, and said no more.

The man would not respond, but a faint smile crossed his lips. He let the thought go, however, and turned to face the wall and closed his eyes, finding some sort of peace which allowed him to drift off into peaceful slumber.

* * *

The following morning when she woke up, she climbed down the ladder from her room to the one below, and to her surprise found Vincent already wide awake, sitting on a low stool by the table, apparently working.

"Up already?" he asked, but did not look up from what he was doing.

"I'm an early bird," she admitted with good humor. "But I didn't expect to see you here…working."

Her statement went by unanswered.

On top of the table lay three different guns, all of different types, sizes and shapes. She drew nearer the table in spite of herself, if only to get a better look at the lethal weapons lying on the top. She marveled at these contraptions, thinking that their creator sat in front of her. She examined them for a few minutes in complete fascination.

"You make this stuff?" she ventured at last.

"Yes," he confirmed. "It's what I'm best at – I would like to think so, at least."

"You're bragging," she remarked with a small grin. His answer pleased her; she liked the confidence in his tone. "It's not nice to brag, you know," she teased.

"Sorry."

"Oh, lighten up! I'm kidding," she said, smiling sweetly. "You can boast all you want, I don't mind."

The man, however, did not respond and proceeded with his work as though nothing had been said.

"They're really something – I mean – I can't imagine all the work that must've gone into them. Mind you, I don't care much for weapons – not at all, in fact; they advocate nothing but violence…and war."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," said Vincent. "Weapons are mere tools – for what purpose they're being used all depends on the individual behind them, and various factors."

Aeris said nothing.

His voice softened as he explained, "I don't care for violence myself, mind. However, it is my conviction that people should have the right to defend themselves, by any means necessary. Even if that includes carrying a gun."

Aeris regarded him and cocked an eyebrow at his claim. However, her expression changed when she spotted the elaborate carvings on the handle on one of his weapons. She stared in awe at the beautiful patterns. Some were flowers, and one gun had what appeared to be some kind of serpent on it, and the third had an embossed dragon. All of them intricate and very well-made.

"Did you carve those?" she asked, charmed by the sight.

"Etched," he corrected monotonously and went about work without looking up.

"Really? They're amazing! It's like…you're an artist," she declared simply, with a wide smile.

A faint chuckle escaped the gunsmith. "Far from it."

"Don't sell yourself short!" Aeris exclaimed. "You have a special talent. I'm a little envious; I wish _I_ could do that."

He did not look at her. He seemed to twist his lips into something that resembled a grin, but Aeris wasn't sure.

Their conversation came to a halt when Irma entered the room, along with a familiar scarred face Vincent had not expected to see.

"Red?" he asked, bemused.

The crimson one-eyed warrior approached their table.

"You are truly lucky that I returned early from my travels," Nanaki confessed, "otherwise you may not have made it out alive."

Vincent looked between Irma and Nanaki, silently demanding an explanation.

Irma explained, addressing Vincent in particular, "Nanaki went to check on you and see if you were all right as soon as he returned, and he brought you both out of there. You were unconscious."

"And heavy," Aeris added and cleared her throat awkwardly.

"You have a very kind friend here who looks after you," Irma added, motioning towards Aeris. "She was with you the entire time you were unconscious."

The young woman smiled and Vincent detected a slight blush on her cheeks.

"It's good to see that you're both well," the elder gushed at the sight of the two after the incident in the cave. "That cave…does not bring out the best in anyone."

Her statement brought about uncomfortable silence. Nanaki and Aeris had nothing to add, and Vincent continued his work without interruption, paying no heed to his surroundings.

"Either way," Irma announced, turning to face Aeris once more, "now that that's settled, why don't you take a look at the things you brought back with you?"

Aeris nodded, and left the room to fetch the documents she had risked her life to retrieve from the cave.


End file.
